


Bones

by Elielephant



Category: One Piece
Genre: Digital Art, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2020-10-28 23:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 82,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20787035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elielephant/pseuds/Elielephant
Summary: When Trafalgar Law first laid eyes on her, he knew her powers could be molded into a tremendous force to be reckoned with. Thanks to her captain, his chance literal flew away. But now, he found her again in the most unexpected of places. He won't let his chance slip away again, though not even he could have guessed what would come from recruiting a fabled mage to his crew.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite for a story I wrote years ago on FanFiction.net, but I'm not really happy with the current atmosphere and environment of that site, so trying out Ao3 instead since it gives more freedoms, options, control, the list goes on. I've spent years trying to work on this rewrite, and at this point, I feel like moving platforms will be like a fresh start for me. Though, please keep in mind that I wrote this story nearly 8 years ago (and it took me 2 years to finish it along with it's companion piece, His Heir, and it's taken me 4 years to edit both stories). I was able to take a lot of creative liberties eight years ago because not a lot of information was on Law like there is now. I have done my best to update my story with the canon information, but I still have my non-canon points in this story. I am still in the process of revising the current chapters I have up on FF and I also plan to add illustrations (because I actually can!), but I will wait to add those illustrations until all the chapters I have posted on FF have been revised and moved over here.
> 
> Hopefully you will still enjoy the story I have to share. :)

# 

#  **Miss Bones**

The sky was a pure shade of cobalt, framed perfectly by the lifeless, silky green curtains hanging over the large, circular window. The bright afternoon sunlight filtered through the room, making the polished wooden floors and walls shimmer in the hazy yellow glow. The smell of sweet mangoes and coconuts wafted from the streets below, the many women milling across the stony road with wagons piled high with fruit.

It was another peaceful day, but the humidity was far too intense; not even the shade could combat the heat that clung to her skin.

Ameria stood at the window and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, groaning in irritation. It never ceased to amaze her how the women of Amazon Lily could handle the extreme tropical weather. She counted down the days when she would be able to escape it, but it all depended on when Luffy got back. He was running later than expected, and she hoped he didn’t cause too much trouble, but knowing him, he caused total mayhem and probably changed the world. Or something like that. Ameria wasn’t certain; she didn’t know what was going on since the island was extremely isolated. Though, she was certain Luffy _did_ cause enough damage to create a major uproar, which was probably why he was so late.

Then a frown pulled at the corner of her lips and she clasped her hands together. “_Please Mortalitas…_” she closed her eyes, and she murmured under her breath. “Let him be okay. He’s just late because it’s Luffy being Luffy doing his Luffy thing. This isn’t the first big battle he’s done before, and he also turned out on top no matter how many times he fell down. _Right?_ Right.”

Ameria nodded to herself and tried to remain positive, but she could feel a thin wire of negativity weave around her heart and squeeze—_hard_.

She quickly turned away from the window and plopped down on the edge of the narrow bed behind her. The thin quilted sheet was warm within the yellow light cast by the window, but the feeling didn’t comfort her. She leaned forward, propping her elbows up on her bare knees and she cradled her pink tinted cheeks in her hands. Staring down at the ornate copper amulet dangling from her neck, her mind went blank. She didn’t want darkness to invade her thoughts, so she shut down instead.

Then excited shrieks of pure ecstasy pierced right through her ears and she was snapped back to reality.

Ameria stood up and leaned over the window’s railing to witness a stampede of jungle women sprinting down the road at top speed. Hundreds and hundreds of Amazons clogged the dusty streets. They were filled with joy as each beautiful lady had a fevered grin on her lips as they swiftly migrated to the same place: the gated bay to the island’s city.

Ameria brows furrowed in confusion, but then the door to the bedroom swung open and her attention turned to the slim blonde standing at the entrance. It was Marguerite; one of the women that temporarily took Ameria in while Luffy was away. The young woman was out of breath, one hand clinging to the doorknob while the other wiped away the sweat that had accumulated under her curly blonde bangs.

“_She’s back!_” There was an excited gleam in her amber eyes, even the snake wrapped like a scarf around her neck looked blissfully happy. “Princess is back!”

Ameria’s eyes opened wide. “That means Luffy’s back!?”

Marguerite nodded and smiled brightly, waving a hand over her shoulder as she turned away. “Come on!”

Without delay, Ameria followed Marguerite through the tiny house and out into the city’s massive horde of women that ran to greet their returning princess at the bay. Ameria blended in seamlessly with the crowd. Her borrowed long brown cape fluttered behind her as she ran, and she was glad Marguerite gave her some old clothes to wear in the tropical weather. It was a bikini top with a purple and white tribal design and matching skirt, which allowed the artificial breeze from the run to cool down her exposed, sweaty skin. Then the run slowed down as the pack of Amazons filed impatiently into a large, stone stadium that sandwiched a long canal.

Marguerite grabbed Ameria by the hand, pushing through the crowd as the young blonde shouted familiar names. “_Sweet Pea! Aphelandra!_”

The two women were down at the front row, and they both turned around when they heard their names. The tall Amazon Aphelandra eagerly bounced on her heels, the blinding glare from the top of her shiny metal hat like a beacon in the sunlight. Then the large Amazon known as Sweet Pea nodded with a smirk, taking a step to the side to allow Marguerite and Ameria a place to stand among the dense crowd.

“_Phew!_” Marguerite sighed, wiping her brow to displace her bangs from her sweaty skin. “I was worried we were going to miss them!” “Just on the other side of the gate.” Sweet Pea remarked coolly, crossing her arms over her large bosom. Then the smirk on her lips widened to a bright grin. “They’ll be coming in any second now. _Both_ Princess and Luffy!”

“_Oooh!_” Aphelandra smiled and clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait! We’ve all been so worried!”

“I just hope they’re alright…” Ameria chimed in, a somewhat worried smile on her lips. “They _are_ pretty late.”

“Don’t worry.” Marguerite placed a comforting hand on Ameria’s shoulder. “Princess is very strong. I know she made sure that Luffy returned safely, so that is probably why it took so long.”

Ameria nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right…”

She fought to agree.

Luffy would always prevail through the toughest situations, but Ameria couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that something was…wrong.

The shouts of joy grew ten times stronger as the mighty Kuja ship appeared through the open gate. Two mighty Sea Kings pulled the tribal galleon through the wide canal, and a wave of high-pitched screeches followed when the Amazons saw their princess standing on the wooden deck with her crew. Ameria clung to the edge of the thick railing in front of her, her nails scraping against the stone. There was no sign of Luffy among the Amazons on the ship.

Marguerite noticed the lack of one young man from the ship and she frowned perturbedly, but then her amber eyes flickered towards the back of the galleon. “_Wait a minute…_” Marguerite’s joyful tone darkened and hushed to a wary whisper. “What’s_ that_ following Princess?” and she pointed to the tiny mystery vessel.

Sweet Pea, Aphelandra and Ameria followed Marguerite’s finger, seeing a flashy yellow submarine in tow of the Kuja galleon. The black Jolly Roger painted on the side looked vaguely familiar, but Ameria didn’t have a chance to study it closer before the other Amazons in the crowd noticed that the deck of the unknown vessel was filled with men.

Ameria felt a bead of sweat on her brow._ Uh oh…_

“**MEN followed Princess!**”

The rough voice of Kikyo arose from the enraged crowd of Amazons. The tough woman furiously leapt onto the stone wall, her long snake locked into the shape of a bow and she knocked back an arrow only to let it fly a second later. The projectile disappeared briefly from the air before it slammed into the submarine’s metal wall, slicing the iron like butter. The sharp arrowhead nearly burrowed into the flesh of someone who looked way too calm for the situation, especially since the rest of the crew of men panicked when the other Amazons also took up arms.

Ameria tucked her elbows in close to her sides, her head nestled between her shoulders as Marguerite, Sweet Pea and Aphelandra followed Kikyo’s example along with dozens of other women. They jumped on the wall, locked their snakes into bows, knocked back arrows and let them soar. However, the rain of bolts never hit their target as another mass of missiles countered them mid flight.

“_Huh?!_” Sweet Pea’s eyes opened wide in shock. “The Kuja _stopped_ us?!”

The primary pirates of the Kuja had mimicked the stances of their fellow Amazons, their snakes locked into bows and arrows drawn, but it was to protect the men trailing behind them.

“**Put down your weapons!**” The princess then stepped forward, her order loud and clear for every person present to hear. The crowd was instantly silent as they listened to their ruler. There was a dark scowl on the princess’s features, yet her voice held a tiny quiver of concern and there was even a small hint of a tear at the corner of her large brown eyes. “_Luffy is on that vessel!_”

All the color drained from Ameria’s face, her skin turning into a sickly shade of white. The dots connected instantly when she remembered who that Jolly Roger belonged to. Her jaw dropped, and she covered her gaping mouth with her hands. She would have leapt from the stadium to the submarine if she could, but the women of Amazon Lily were ordered to evacuate the area and she was carried with the crowds. There needed to be a discussion about what to do in the dire situation. Luffy was the only man given permission to be on Amazon Lily, but not the rest of the pirates aboard the submarine. Marguerite later told Ameria that the submarine was allowed to dock at the bay on the other side of the island, but only a few of the elite warriors had permission to give the men food and other supplies. Not even their princess could see Luffy. However, that wasn’t going to stop Ameria from seeing her dear friend, but then she reached a tiny hitch in her plan.

“What do you mean I _can’t?_”

Crossed spears blocked her path to the forest, and the women warriors remained completely emotionless as they stood guard in front of the gate’s entrance. “_Orders,_” was the simple response, both women saying the word in monotone unison.

“But he’s my friend,” Ameria argued. “I want to make sure he’s okay.”

One of the woman warrior’s stony expressions softened and she sighed. “I am sure you heard the news. No woman on the island is to come in contact with the men save for the warriors to give them supplies.”

“_Uuuh…_” Ameria’s brows furrowed. “You know I’m not a villager, right? I literally fell from the sky with Luffy. There is a giant paw-print in the mud to prove it.”

“You’re our guest.” The second warrior spoke up gently. “More reason to make sure you are protected.”

Ameria crossed her arms with a huff, annoyed by the response. Then a hand touched her shoulder, and she looked around to see a pleading look from Marguerite. The blonde knew the warriors wouldn’t make any exceptions and it was best to wait like everyone else.

Sighing, Ameria turned on her heel, following after Marguerite slowly. When Ameria heard the warriors relax their spears, she swiftly pivoted on her heel and dashed toward the opening. The two warriors were startled and braced their spears to block her again, but Ameria shifted all her weight to her back and slid underneath the crossed spears. She flinched when she felt tiny stones scrape along the skin of her calf, but she pushed through the pain and hurriedly regained her footing. Then she ran, but was jerked backwards when an iron grip snared her cape. The growl of an angry warrior came from behind, and the fabric was forcibly yanked. Ameria gagged, the collar choking her, and she struggled to undo the pin that held the fabric in place. _Click_, the pin was released and she bolted like a bat out of hell.

The roar of the warriors multiplied from two to twenty in a matter of seconds, which pumped adrenaline into Ameria’s veins. She would understand if she was an actual resident of Amazon Lily, but she was a member of the Straw Hat Pirates. Was is true what Marguerite had said? That it seemed like the princess really disliked Ameria?

Thunk.

The sound of bark splitting snapped her from her inner thoughts and she peeked over to see that an arrow was embedded into a tree’s exposed root. Her eyes opened wide. _Arrows?!_ She gasped. _Really?!_

That would only make her run faster.

Until she was stopped by a cliff.

She nearly tumbled over the edge. She took a few steps back, about to turn around to find another route, but the silhouettes of the warriors drew closer. She bit her lip, her mind zipping through the options she had. There were only two: get caught or don’t. Then she knew what she had to do. Ameria took a deep breath in and then out, tuning out the shouts that were closing in. Dozens of hands were right behind her, reaching out to restrain her, but they were too late.

She jumped.

The screams of the warriors were drowned by the wind rushing through her thick ebony hair, the tangled knots whipping against her ears. Time around her felt slow as she focused her mind on the ground. The energy around her was warm, and she closed her eyes to concentrate. The image of the leafy canopy was burned into her mind, but she imagined the ground hidden beneath the leaves. The forest floor covered with dirt.

The ground shook, dust spiraled through the leaves like a wild tornado. The thin powder started to build up slowly, gaining in weight and size until the dust carved the images of bones. The cartilage whirled with the force of the wind, snapping together with large cracks to create a complete form: a skeletal dragon.

The dragon emerged from the circling dust, flying up quickly to meet her fall. With a small tap, she landed atop of the smooth cartilage of the dragon’s skull. Then, the undead beast took flight high into the sky. Wind passed freely through her clothing, and knotted her short hair even more. She steadied her stance, her feet glowing light grey has she rooted herself to the cartilage, and she guided the dragon’s movement as a snowboarder guides his board down a snowy slope. Ameria didn’t know exactly where the bay was, but time was not an object as her dragon circled the small island. She scanned the beaches of the island, easily sighting that spot of yellow: the Heart Pirates.

With a small twist of her body, she sent the dragon’s bone body creaking and it turned in the direction of the bay. The crew of the Heart Pirates below panicked when the dragon approached and prepared to land. The magic woven wings forced intense winds upon the crew, knocking men over while others shielded their eyes. The mighty undead dragon's claws dug into the solid ground with ease, making fresh trenches in its wake. It landed with its head held high, showing an unspoken law of respect.

Ameria stood just as tall perched on the dragon's skull and looked down at the men below. “**Where's Luffy?**” Her question was a demand.

It carried over the heads of the gasping men. All they did was stare up, gawking at the large animation, watching the dragon’s neck creak with each lifeless breath, dust falling from rubbing joints. _Must be intimidated_, she thought, and who wouldn’t be after that display. Undead plus dragon equals bad news.

“He’s sleeping, Miss.”

Ameria’s blue eyes were trained on the man that spoke up. He stood out from the rest, his composure just as calm as when an arrow nearly burrowed into his forehead. Ameria tapped her foot against the cartilage and the dragon lowered its head, making the jump she had to take a shorter one. The other pirates stared as Ameria marched straight ahead to the man, the captain of the Heart Pirates: Trafalgar Law.

Aside from his calm demeanor, Trafalgar Law stood out from the rest of his crew in other ways. His crew wore baggy white boilersuits whereas the surgeon sported a black and yellow hoodie with his Jolly Roger on the front. The yellow fabric had a sneering smiley face that had a _T_-like design sticking out from the edges of the circle, and his hat and jeans had an interesting spotted design on them.

Trafalgar Law eyed her curiously, his arms crossed over his chest, which showcased the tribal tattoos on his exposed forearms and also the letters printed across his fingers to spell the word _DEATH_ on his left hand. He opened his mouth to say something else, something that was probably as snarky as his smirk, but she didn’t allow him the pleasure.

Ameria stood toe to toe with the surgeon, hands on her hips. “Where’s Luffy sleeping?” She clarified with a tone just as demanding as the first time.

The look on his face changed drastically. The mild interest flipped to anger in a heartbeat, like she hit a nerve hard. The shadows under the brim of his signature brown-spotted white fuzzy hat darkened to the point where she couldn’t even see his steely grey eyes anymore. “Miss, I should inform you that I do not like to be ordered around.” He stated coldly, stepping closer to use his height as an advantage. “It’s a _captain_ thing.”

She was playing with fire, and there was a tiny nagging in the back of her mind that told her not to stoke it, but she was worried and wanted to see Luffy. Pissing off the guy that was going to let her do that wasn’t a good idea. She hadn’t ran away from Hancock’s elite and jumped off a cliff for nothing.

Ameria took a deep breath in and then out, calming down. “I just want to see him.” She told the surgeon. “I haven’t seen him in over a week, and I want to know if he’s okay.”

The darkness over the surgeon's eyes softened, yet there was still an emotionless look on his features. “I already told you: he’s sleeping,” was his response.

“_Jerk._” Ameria glared, and he sent her a just as nasty glare back.

“Captain Trafalgar,” a new voice entered from stage right, making her glance away from the surgeon and towards the large fishman standing nearby.

The fishman was bandaged heavily along his chest from, and his orange kimono was covered in dirt, dried blood and holes. He tried to walk calmly—despite the pain from his injures—over to the pair. “We should comply and answer her question. The women of the island are helping us and I assume they simply want to know Luffy’s condition. We just got back and it has been over a week, after all.”

“Women of the island? Don’t be fooled, Mister Jinbei.” The surgeon rolled his eyes. “If a woman of the island was here with that question then of course I would give an answer.”

Jinbei’s brows furrowed in confusion from the surgeon’s annoyed response.

Ameria scoffed, feeling somewhat insulted. “Look, just let me see him—”

Trafalgar Law’s jaw locked, and she could see every muscle in his body tense from the tone in her voice. “He’s _asleep._” He gritted through clenched teeth.

“I’m not going too—”

“No.” Trafalgar Law cut her off again.

Ameria knew she was getting nowhere. “Then I’ll stay here and wait for him to wake up.” She declared, walking away from his intense glower to sit beneath a nearby tree.

“But…” the fishman started, a worried look on his face. “Aren’t the women of the island not supposed to be here?”

“Yes, but she isn’t one of them,” the surgeon answered. “She’s Bones of the Straw Hat Pirates.”

* * *

Law had to admit Bones was an interesting character. Bad attitude when she didn’t get her way, but it was fueled from the concern for her captain which made it…_understandable_. That aside, he had always been mildly intrigued with Bones well before he ever met her. In the newspapers, where many bounty posters were published and then distributed to the public, Law saw that Bones of the Straw Hats was different. She was wanted alive, and only alive. It was rare to see that, especially since it was so common to see criminals wanted as either dead or alive. What fueled his curiosity was how X. Drake reacted to her. Then his fascination reached an all time high when they informally met at the Auction House and he saw her conjure a small army of skeletons. Law believed it was an extraordinary Devil Fruit, but it was something different. It was magic; he figured that out when the Marines rushed to capture _the mage_, as they called her. He didn’t have time to examine her magic thoroughly back then, but now he did.

For the past couple of days Bones decided to stay at the bay, Law was able to witness her create and control skeletons at her very whim. Whenever his crew got a bit of courage to talk—flirt, because that was how his crew was—she would show off the many skeletal creations she had in her arsenal to scare them away. They ranged from humans to animals, even some mythical beasts like dragons, griffons, and more. Though, Law noted that some of the proportions were a bit off…

Nonetheless, he could see where her bounty of 60 million beli came from; an infinite army of the unkillable.

Still, there were questions left unanswered. It was _magic_. He wanted to know where magic came from. Was the light grey glow from her hands the source, and why? However, every time Law tried to ask her anything, she was bitter and refused any details. She would only give him simple answers of yes, no, maybe so.

She even turned down the offer for a trade: answers to see the rubber captain. At that point she was being stubborn and didn’t want to see him get what he wanted. An eye for an eye. But despite that, Bones had the potential to be a useful asset to his goal. Who wouldn’t want an undead army on his side? With a bit of tutoring on the bone structure, he could make her into something terrifying to his enemies.

The only obstacle in his path was the rubber captain. Bones was only sitting there dealing with the stares and questions because of Straw Hat. Law could use the _you-owe-me_ card, but then her loyalty to him would be nothing. Law could just picture her trying to escape whenever she had the chance. That was something he didn’t want; her feeling like she was a prisoner.

_Well…she joined the Straw Hats for a reason_, he pondered, _if I could just throw her mind off kilter then maybe_… then he smirked, walking casually over to her tree.

Bones had claimed a tree as her base, huddled between the roots like it was her fortress. She was curled beneath the large brown cloak that all the warriors of the island wore. When a few of the Amazons came to give his crew supplies, they returned Bones’s cloak and also tried to convince her to come back to the city. Boa Hancock was apparently very persistent with her demand that Bones return immediately, but lucky for the surgeon, Bones remained as stubborn as a mule.

Law leaned against the tree and greeted her with a simple: “Hello, Miss Bones.”

“Captain Trafalgar.” Bones acknowledged his presence, but refused to look at him. She was too focused on picking the large, but blunt, thorns from her sandal's soles.

That was another thing Law had noticed: Bones seemed a little accident prone. He remembered back at the Auction House that Bones had gotten a nasty shot to the arm. It grazed through her arm, not enough to be a through and through, but enough to leave it gaping that needed to be treated. It looked like the ladies of Amazon Lily had patched it up nicely; there was only a fresh red scar now. Bones had multiple faint scars across her skin. A majority of them looked old, like they happened back when she was younger, but there was another relatively fresh one across her stomach. As Law stared at it, his mind suddenly got attached to a different and unrelated question.

“Miss Bones?” Law inquired. “Did something _bite_ you?”

The question caught her off guard and she looked up, blinking wildly. When Law pointed to her scar, Bones sheepishly looked away and admitted that: “A tree did.”

“A _tree?_” He repeated, astonished.

“A tree,” she repeated.

“…”

Law was at a loss of words. A part of him wanted to press the subject, but he needed to stay on track. The surgeon decided to sit down in front of her, crossing his legs, then he extended a hand toward her. “Would you like some help?”

Bone’s brows furrowed into a skeptical knot. “I can pick the thorns out myself.”

“I know you can. I’ve seen you do it for the past three days,” Law replied. “But I meant the wounds; even a tiny one can lead to infection if not treated properly.”

Bones shifted uncomfortably where she sat, and a crease formed along her brow. She was in deep thought, but then she nodded slowly. “Okay,” and she placed her hand in his.

Law cocked his head to the side in confusion, but then a mischievous smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “Cute,” he purred, which made her eye him warily in response. Her hand started to slip from his, but he held onto it tightly as he used his free hand to produce a small transparent blue sphere around them. With a wave of his hand, the thorns were pulled from her feet, but then the surgeon chuckled in amusement when he saw her eyes open wide and she jumped in her seat, shocked.

“That hurt!!” She squeaked, her grip tightening around his hand, and her toes curled in discomfort.

“It was only a sting, _bella donna,_” Law corrected firmly, and then he placed his other hand over hers, patting it gently. “Nonetheless, I believe it was a good idea to hold my hand.”

Bones stared at him for a moment, a blank expression on her face before her cheeks quickly flared up when she saw her mistake. She ripped her hand from his grip and cradled it delicately to her chest. “It’s not funny,” she glowered.

“Of course not,” Law mused, grinning mischievously at her pretty pink features. “But that aside, do you feel better now, Miss Bones?”

She didn’t want to, but she begrudgingly nodded. “_Thanks,_” she grumbled and looked away in a huff.

“You are very welcome,” Law chuckled. He felt like he was able to lower her guard a bit more, but he didn’t want to risk asking her any questions about magic. So, he stayed on track with his original plan. There was a small stretch of silence as Law allowed her to relax before he asked: “Miss Bones, why did you join Mister Straw Hat’s crew?”

This question also threw her for a loop because she looked back at him in utter confusion. “Why would you want to know _that?_”

“I felt like shaking things up a bit today.” Law shrugged nonchalantly. “If you’re a Straw Hat there must be a noteworthy dream and also a touching tale.”

Bones scoffed, her brows knitted in annoyance and she whipped her attention away from him. “I have my reasons.”

“And that would be?” He pressed on.

She glared at him. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” he finished with a smug smirk.

She paused, observing his expression to find any meaningful tells, but he didn’t let her have one. Then she sighed. “You_ really _want to know?”

“Yes,” he was blunt.

“Will you leave me alone if I tell you?”

“I’m not making any promises, but I’ll give you more space if you cooperate.”

She pursed her lips, her eyes weighing the trade. “I’m…” she paused, a doubtful gleam in her azure eyes, but then she finished. “…looking for something.”

Law leaned in, feeling like a fisherman when his bait is snared by a huge catch. “And what is it that you’re looking for, Miss Bones?”

“None of your business,” she snapped, a sharp glare in her eyes. “You said you’d leave me alone!”

“If you answered my question,” Law smirked. “And I believe that _something_, isn’t a very good answer. Hardly is one, wouldn’t you agree? It should at least be three to five sentences long. Didn’t your teachers tell you that in school?”

“_Uuuugh…_” she groaned and rolled her eyes.

Law chuckled, pleased with his fishing. _Something_, was all he needed. He positioned himself so he sat beside her, invading her fortress of roots, which made her squirm in discomfort when their arms touched. Then he leaned over and whispered in her ear: “How are you going to find that something if you’re stuck on this island?”

Bones backed away, scowling at him. “I’m not going to be stuck here that long.” She scoffed, trying to scoot away.

Law wrapped an arm around her shoulders, ceasing her movement, and he pulled her close to his side again. “How do you know that?” He inquired with a frown, a faulty mask of concern on his features. “You might be here for years.”

“I have my animations.” She retorted. “You have seen what I can make.”

“And it’s impressive work, but…it’s_ lacking_.” Law was honest, and her eyes opened wide at the sudden critique. “You have skills, don’t get me wrong, but you seem to have the skills of a novice under your belt, Miss Bones. A few minutes, maybe a day of good work can get people far, but can you keep up that pace for years?”

She was speechless, so he took the opportunity to continue.

“Can your animations even go off on their own without the source in the same radius?” He inquired. “And even if they could do that, what if it takes a year to find that _something_, then another year for the animation to get back. Overall, it’s a waste of two years when it could have taken one.”

“What are you saying, Trafalgar?” She questioned, venom in her voice.

Law leaned in close, brushing away locks of ebony hair from her ear so he could whisper: “Join my crew, Miss Bones. Find what you need in a year rather than two with Straw Hat.”

“H—How—_How dare you!!_” She snapped and shoved him, but only succeed in tumbling away from his grasp rather than pushing him away. Her cheeks prickled crimson from rage and she jumped to her feet. “How dare you say that! At a time like _this!_ How dare you! I will _not!_ I will_ never!_ I will _never ever_ abandon Luffy!” She seethed. “I will have you know that Luffy isn’t the type to stay in one place for long. I’ll be on my search again before you know it, Trafalgar!”

She was fuming fire as turned away, steam whistling from her ears. Then she stormed away, but her angry march deflated rapidly when she stepped on, yet again, another blunt thorn. She flinched for a second before pushing on into a very slow retreat to a different tree to hide behind on the other side of the camp. She sat down in the roots and then started to pick at the thorn buried in her sandals.

Law just watched her leave without a word. He didn’t need to get the last word on the matter. He knew his words were already racing through her mind. He planted the seed, now he just needed to let doubt grow.

Though, the doctor side of his mind said he should probably check in on her once she cools down. For her foot’s sake, but Ameria could care less about her foot’s sake. She was too annoyed to pick at the thorn and she just ripped it out, leaving her with a very sore foot afterwards.

She was too angry to notice the pain as she curled up into a tense ball of furious anger. That surgeon’s offer left a bitter taste in her mouth. How unsympathetic of Trafalgar Law to ask her to join his crew when Luffy was still recovering. She should have expected the man to be cruel given he’s the _Surgeon of Death_. Luffy was his patient, but it was clear the surgeon only cared for himself. Ameria knew she wasn’t the best necromancer nor was she the most graceful lass, but she knew well enough that Trafalgar Law only wanted to use her magic for his own benefit; just as she was taught. No matter what, Ameria would stay by Luffy’s side; he needed her more than anything right now.

Ameria tried to steady herself into that firm, ironclad resolve, but she felt it wavering quickly under the weight of her mission. She hated to admit that the surgeon’s words were digging through her mind like a plow, which was probably why anger was so deeply rooted in her mind. The reason she left home: a mission that was a ticking bomb that crushed her shoulders under the pressure of time. The thought left her pale; an eerie shade of pale white. She wanted to be with Luffy, but she couldn’t ignore her purpose.

She could only hope that Luffy would recover soon, and then they’d be on their merry way back to the rest of their friends to venture into the New World. She couldn’t wait, like Law said, and she didn’t know what she would do if Luffy decided to stay longer. She would need a Plan B if that was the case, but joining the Heart Pirates was not an option.

…Or was it?

Before she could even came to a conclusion for her train of thought, a long piercing scream echoed through the small camp. The familiar voice made her leap to her feet and look towards the ocean. The yellow submarine began to shake, rocking between the large waves forming in the still waters around it. Sirens blared from the swaying vessel, and the windows flashed an ominous shade of bright red. The crew panicked at the sight, and the surgeon and fishman rushed to the edge of the bay where the submarine slammed into the side of the cliff, metal scraping against the stone like nails running along a chalkboard. The ground shook as the submarine groaned in pain, then with a loud crackle of iron sheets wrinkling under immense pressure, the top of the vessel warped violently and popped. A roar followed when the thick iron gave way as the culprit shot out into the sky like a bullet before tumbling to the ground like a meteor.

When the dust cleared, there he was.

_Luffy._

Covered in bandages from head to toe, the gauze stained with dirt, sweat and fresh blood. His back rose and fell rapidly as he struggled to remain balanced on his hands and knees. Members of the Heart Pirates approached the rubber captain cautiously and tried to restrain him, but a tremor rumbled through Luffy’s body like an earthquake and he raised his head, screaming to the heavens, “**AAAAAAACCCCCEEE!!!!!**” at the top of his lungs. The roar was so potent that the men tumbled backwards under the weight of his tone.

Like a feral beast reacting only to primal survival, Luffy leapt to his feet and ran. He ran, and he ran, and he ran around the camp. Nothing was safe in his path. His eyes were wide and wild, but also filled with an empty void; blank with pure shock as he continued to cry his brother’s name over and over again. The Heart Pirates did their best to soothe the savage beast the rubber captain had become, but Luffy’s strength was too much for them. He resisted every time, throwing them off like limp ragdolls to the ground.

Ameria froze, her eyes wide and her hands covering her mouth. It was like Luffy was trapped in the moment, forced to watch it happened over and over…when Ace died. Then she slapped her cheeks, breaking herself from the trance. “_Luffy!!_”

She rushed towards him, her heart crumbling to pieces when she saw him plowing through wooden crates of supplies and slicing through boulders like butter with his unhinged strength. The blood from his open wounds gushed through the gauze until they turned a tainted shade of black. He was in a blind state of hysteria when his rubbery arm extended and she ran into the danger zone recklessly. His knuckles collided with her temple and Ameria was knocked to the ground. Blood seeped down the side of her face as Luffy’s fist continued to soar through the air above her head, ramming into a boulder that shattered into pieces. The explosion ripped holes through the tall cloth barrier that surrounded the camp, and Luffy fled into the jungle through the large hole in the barrier with the Fishman Jinbei right at the rubber captain’s heels.

Ameria clutched her forehead as she stumbled to her feet, desperate to follow after her friend, but then strong arms wrapped around her stomach from behind. “_Don’t,_” the surgeon’s voice was firm as he forced her to sit back down on the ground.

“B—But I need to—”

“He’s unpredictable right now,” Law stated calmly as he inspected the cut on her head. Then he mumbled something under her breath, and one of his crew members standing nearby quickly left.

Ameria froze again, staring at where Luffy had disappeared into the shadowy maze of towering trunks and vines. His screams still pounded against her eardrums, the echo like a broken record. She felt her skin prickle with goosebumps, the nap of her neck uncomfortably hot when she found it hard to find the words to say. It felt like her heart sank to the pits of her stomach like a brick. “But…” she tried to speak again, but her voice was too weak to continue.

“Mister Jinbei went after him,” Law reminded her as he took a gauze and applied pressure to her temple. “There is nothing you can do,” and with his free hand, a small blue sphere appeared around them.

She flinched, his words cutting deep.

Was there really nothing she could do? Could she really not comfort him? But how could she comfort him if she didn’t know what to say? _Everything is going to be alright_ couldn’t be the words he needed to hear, or wanted to hear. Could the fishman really be more help than she would be at a time like this? Maybe. He was there, and maybe he did know the right words to say, but what kind of friend would she be if she didn’t go after him? They spent months together, experiencing all the good and bad times together. Times were peaceful, times were tough, but they always made it through together.

Ameria scowled at the surgeon and pushed him away, startling him when she used so much force to create distance between them. The bloody gauze that was on her temple fluttered to the ground as she sprang to her feet, slipping through the blue dome like a ghost. Then she made a mad dash to the broken barrier. The pirates couldn’t stop her when she was in the forest. The men weren’t allowed to wander outside the barrier the Amazons provided, so Ameria was free to search for Luffy because there was no way in hell she was going to abandon him in his time of grief. Even if she didn’t know what words to say, she would rather try and fail than not try at all.

Following carnage left behind the rubber captain’s rampage, and for brief seconds she could hear his blood-curdling cries echo through the trees. The vicious roars slowly melted into desperate sobs as she got closer, and when she found them, Luffy was in nothing but tears. The rubber captain was on all fours, surrounded by a puddle of tears and blood. Luffy was wailing as he pounded the side of his fist to the ground, his words as muddy as the muddy jungle floor.

Ameria didn’t know how to approach him, but then she spotted the fishman nearby. Jinbei was resting against a cracked boulder, more battered looking than before he left to follow Luffy. There was a calm expression on his features as he looked toward Ameria, smiling weakly, and he nodded.

Ameria nodded in return and tentatively tip-toed over to the rubber captain and sat down on her knees beside him. Luffy was so distraught that he didn’t notice her until she placed a hand gently on his shoulder. He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes overflowing with large tears, but renewed with life. His brows trembled and his lower lip quivered as he wrapped his arms around her neck and he started to wail right beside her ear.

“_I—I have you!_” He sobbed. “_Meriii! I still have you, and everyone else!_** I still have all my friends!!**”

Ameria paused, unsure of how to react, but then she smiled and hugged him back. She let him cry on her shoulder for as long as he needed, until he passed out from pure exhaustion.

Jinbei groaned as he stood up from his seat on the ground. “Let’s head to camp. Trafalgar needs to tend to his wounds. Luffy could die if he’s not properly treated again.”

Ameria nodded grimly. “...Right,” and she helped the unconscious rubber captain to his feet, but Jinbei was able to carry Luffy the rest of the way.

When they returned to the camp, the pirates had already cleaned up the mess Luffy had made. The rocks were cleared away and the scraps of wood were discarded into a pile and set ablaze. Beside the broken barrier was the surgeon. He stood there impatiently, a disapproving look in his steely grey eyes, but he turned his attention to his crew and called a few men over. A group of four men with each wearing a unique hat trotted over with a stretcher and a few medical kits. The men took care of Luffy and escorted the rubber captain and the fishman to the submarine. Ameria was prepared to follow suit, but the surgeon swiftly grabbed her arm and pulled her close. The same blue dome reappeared around them as he placed a hand to her bloodied forehead. It felt like her skin was stitched up by invisible, but extremely sharp needles in a matter of milliseconds..

“Ow!” She yelped, wincing in pain, then she leapt away from the surgeon and scowled. “Would you stop that?!”

Law rolled his eyes and didn’t bother giving her a response as he turned on his heel, strolling toward his submarine.

Ameria wanted to go after him, but she thought it would be best to stay put. She had a feeling the surgeon wasn’t going to let her on his submarine—unless she decided to join his crew afterwards. She had a feeling he would try and pull such a deal out of his pocket. Instead she took a seat at the foot of her tree, snuggling between the roots and she wrapped the cloak around her tightly. She was suddenly extremely drowsy, and within minutes she was drifting off into a much more peaceful sleep than she expected. She had empty dreams, but it was better than nightmares about uncertainty; she had too many of those the past few days. Then her peaceful dreams were quickly interrupted by the loud sound of obnoxious snoring.

It sounded like it was right beside her ear, but it was coming from just the other side of the camp. Luffy was sleeping soundly on a blanket laid out across the ground. His bandages were a pristine white once more and he looked at peace while he slept; he was drooling and even a bubble of snot expanded and deflated repeatedly with each breath he took. Jinbei was sitting on the ground beside the rubber captain, the fishman with fresh bandages and even fresh clothing. However, beside him was a surprise guest.

“R—_Ray-san?!_” Ameria stuttered, her eyes opened wide in shock.

Rayleigh broke his conversation with Jinbei and he smiled as Ameria trotted over to them. The Pirate King’s former First-Mate was dawned in his white cloak and robes, but the fabric was damp and smelled of salt. His long white hair was stringy, the curls drying stiffly because of ocean water. Rayleigh chuckled when he saw the baffled look on her face. “Why am I here, and when did I even get here?” Rayleigh read her mind, and he answered: “I’m here to check up on our dear friend Luffy’s condition, and a few minutes ago Maybe fifteen of twenty minutes, give or take. I may be old, but I’m still a pretty decent swimmer, Miss Manolia. Nearly lost my glasses though…”

“O—Oh.” Ameria murmured; she didn’t want to ask about the distance, especially since they were in the middle of the Calm Belt.

“That Trafalgar isn’t so bad.” Rayleigh continued wryly. “He helped Luffy after all, Jinbei,” and he motioned toward the fishman. “And I heard he used his quick healing on you. A gentleman, if you ask me,” and he winked at her.

_Gentleman my ass_, she frowned.

Rayleigh let out a short laugh. “Seems like I missed him being a deviant, didn’t I? I would say ignore him, but that might be hard.”

Ameria’s brows furrowed in confusion, but when she felt a tap on her shoulder, she inwardly groaned.

“Miss Bones.”

She remained silent, but the curious look behind Rayleigh’s glasses and the look of bewilderment from Jinbei didn’t make the situation any better. Slowly, she turned around to face the surgeon to see that he held Luffy’s trademark straw-hat in his hand and held it out to her. She graciously accepted the rubber captain’s treasure, but the surgeon didn’t let go right away.

“My offer still stands.” Law stated, his tone full of confidence. “I’m sure you’ll find me when you make up your mind. I hope to see you again.”

She had to give him credit for trying to until the bitter end, but there is no way she could leave Luffy. She sent him a dark expression, her eyes telling him he should doubt that confidence, but it didn’t work. He just smirked and then walked away to continue overseeing his crew bring supplies to their submarine.

“What was that about?” Jinbei asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“_Hmmm,_” Rayleigh hummed, a wry smirk on his lips.

“Don’t worry about it,” she grumbled, sitting down on the ground in a huff. “It means nothing.”

Within a matter of minutes, the Heart Pirates were stocked up and left, meaning that Trafalgar Law was officially out of her hair. Jinbei and Rayleigh exchanged a few words before Luffy woke up, the rubber captain slightly upset that the surgeon left before a proper goodbye. However, Jinbei gave Luffy a true farwell before the fishman went on his way, but then the princess herself came to visit. Apparently Rayleigh was the other man with special permission to be on Amazon Lilly, but Ameria also learned why the warriors wouldn’t let her see Luffy and why they wanted her to return. Boa Hancock had the biggest crush on Luffy, and in the eyes of a jealous woman, all other women are a threat. Not that Luffy noticed any of it; the only thing Luffy knew he truly loved was meat.

Ameria didn’t have to deal with the murderous glares for long because Rayleigh asked for a moment of privacy with the two members of the Straw Hat Pirates. That meant Hancock was dragged away, and boy did she not like that idea, but once the screeching of the princess died down to nothing but a small buzz, Rayleigh began.

He wanted to discuss the importance of being prepared with Luffy and Ameria, but the conversation turned into an argument when Rayleigh recommended a two year wait before venturing into the New world. The Straw Hats needed to train for all the challenges because the Grand Line was a dangerous place. There was a reason why one side was called Paradise and the other was called New World. Still, Rayleigh gave Luffy a moment to decide his choice with Ameria.

Luffy hadn’t said a word since Rayleigh left. The rubber captain chose to binge eat through his frustration until he calmed down. Ameria’s mind was running a mile a minute, unsure of what to tell Luffy and also afraid to even discuss the decision. She knew she couldn’t avoid it for long, especially since she could physically see the gears whirling in the rubber captain’s head and she felt like she knew what he was going to do.

Ameria wrapped the cape around her, huddling under the fabric before she finally spoke up. “_Sooooo_…what’re you gonna do?”

Luffy had been obnoxiously gnawing on a bone while he thought, but then he paused to reply. “Think I nee’ta listen to Ray-san.” He answered through the greasy cartilage between his teeth. “I wanna see everyone, but I gotta think about everyone, too, y’know.”

Ameria felt her heart drop, but she managed to smile weakly. “He’s right… We need to get stronger for the real rivals up ahead.”

“_Yup!_” Luffy grinned blissfully, waving the bone back and forth in his hand. “Everythin’ so far was just the Grand Line pickin’ off the weak from the strong, just like Zoro said!”

“…Yeah.” Ameria closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“_Eeeeh?_” Luffy noticed her dropped mood, and he tilted his head to the side with a frown. “Wassup? You don’t sound too happy…”

“Time…” she bit her lip. “Time really isn’t on my side right now.”

“Oh?” Luffy’s brows furrowed in thought, but then they shot up, his eyes opening wide. “**OH!** _Your master’s mask!_ I forgot about that! You need to find it, like, right now!!”

“Yeah…but,” and she clutched the copper amulet around her neck until her knuckles turned white. “Maybe he can hang in there… He’s tough, y’know—”

Luffy pointed the greasy meat bone at her, the stained cartilage dripping with drool. “**Bullshit!**” He called her out, scowling at her angrily. “You told us he could _die_ without it! You need to find it, like, right now!” Then the fuel from his excitement sizzled out when he realized the massive problem they faced. Luffy plopped down on the ground then he placed the bone between his teeth again, chewing thoroughly, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “We nee’ta think of a way to get you off this island and search for it… How’re we gonna do that…? How’re we gonna do that?”

“I don’t know,” Ameria sighed, frowning grimly. “We’re in the middle of the Calm Belt, and there is no way I can swim like Ray-san.”

“You can make dragons with your magic!” Luffy snapped happily, grinning widely at the idea as he started to flap his arms wildly like they were bird’s wings. “You can _fly!_”

“I—I—I—” Ameria stuttered, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment. “I—I don’t think I could make it… I'm not powerful enough yet to do something like that…”

“Hmm, yeah that’s right… You get tuckered out pretty quick. You nee’ta train, too, but mask first!” Luffy exclaimed, but then he hummed and his eyes closed in deep concentration. The rubber captain swayed to and fro over and over again until a bright lightbulb dinged above his head. “Oh!” and his eyes snapped open wide and he pointed a single finger to the sky. “Kuja! We can ask the Kuja Pirates to help!”

“I don—_Maaaybe_…but, I think the Kuja return back to Amazon Lily often to deliver supplies… So—So they probably never leave for too long. Plus…I think Hancock won’t leave as much knowing you’re here.”

“Why? That sounds real dumb.”

A bead of sweat trickled down her cheek; too oblivious to even notice that the princess had a permanent blush around him.

“_Hmm…_” Luffy when back to humming, but there was a dissatisfied expression on his features. “Too bad Law left before I got back,” he grumbled. “Could of asked him to take you along with him.”

“W—**What!?**” Ameria’s eyes opened wide in shock. “You’d—_wait_, **why?!**”

Luffy eyed her in confusion, like she suddenly grew three heads from her shoulders. “He’s my friend,_ duh_. I’m sure he’d help.”

Ameria was speechless, stunned for a solid minute because the first time the rubber captain ever met the surgeon, they were rivals and since then, Luffy hadn’t spoken to Law once. She should have known that this was what he was like this by now, but this time was irritatingly frustrating because the surgeon had asked her for greedy purposes while Luffy was being pure, innocent and genuine with his response.

“He…” she found herself saying before she realized. “He…He already asked me to join his crew.”

“Whoa, _really!?_” Luffy’s eyes grew in shock. Then he grinned widely, rubbing the side of his forefinger under his nose. “Do you think he predicted the future? I bet that’s how he knew to come at the right time to save Jinbei and me! Traffy is so cool, isn’t he, Meri?”

Ameria felt another bead of sweat travel down her cheek and her brow twitched in annoyance. _Trafalgar Law is far more sinister than you think Luffy_, she wanted to say, but something about bursting his bubble right now seemed too cruel.

Luffy then leapt to his feet, throwing the meat bone over his shoulder into the pile behind him. “That settles that!”

“_Err…_” she didn’t like where this was going, and she inched away as the rubber captain that drew closer. She wasn’t fast enough as her captain gathered her into his arms and started to carry her toward the bay’s cliff. “L—_Luffy?!_” Her eyes opened wide in panic and she wiggled in his grasp; she really didn’t like where this was going. “L—Let me go!!”

Luffy ignored her protest and resisted her struggle to escape. Then with a large grin, he shouted: “Fly, my pretty, fly!” and threw her off the cliff.

“_LUFFY!_” She shrieked at the top of her lungs. “_HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU I CAN’T—!_”

**S**

** P**

** L**

** A**

** S**

** H**

** !!**


	2. Chapter 2

#  **Men of Hearts**

Law always considered himself the patient type, even when it came to things he _had_ to have. Patience was a virtue that earned many rewards as time went on. He stared up at the night sky with a sly smirk, watching the wispy clouds gently roll across the moon and stars. He tapped his fingertips against the wooden railing, eagerly anticipating the arrival of his newest crew member. He knew she would come. He was oozing with overconfidence, but he baited her, hooked her, and he was positive she was reeled in by a promise only he could give her. Her outburst after his proposal was more than enough to confirm she got fired up because she knew he was right; it was her important mission for that important _something_.

“Captain.”

Law’s stargazing was interrupted when his name was called, and he glanced over his shoulder to see his primary navigator, Cleon. The short man pushed the bridge of his thick-framed glasses up higher on the perch of his nose, the glare concealing the expression held within his brown eyes. Law knew his navigator’s habits. It was like uncovering a poker player’s tells. Cleon always fiddled with his glasses, using any light source to try and hide the look in his eyes. However, Law also knew that when the navigator wiggled his mustache—as he was doing at that moment—it meant Cleon was annoyed due to impatience, which was why the navigator was trying to hide the look in his eyes.

Law stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned to face the agitated navigator. “What is it now?”

“You’re still waiting for Bones.” His navigator stated the obvious, tipping back the bill of his plaid cap so he could inspect the dark sky more clearly. “It’s been hours since we left the Calm Belt.”

“I’m aware,” was the surgeon’s short response and he twisted on the heel of his boot to face the horizon once more.

“Doubt she’ll even come.” Cleon was blunt, the old man huffing with irritation as he crossed his arms. “If she really needed whatever she was looking for, then she would have—” and his remark was cut off with a sudden gasp of pure shock.

Curious, the surgeon turned around to see that Cleon had his neck craned back, gawking up at the sky with a slack jaw. Law smirked; that could only be one thing.

The familiar intensity of forceful winds surrounded them, rocking the yellow submarine between the dark waves. The surgeon observed the shadowy image of a dragon silhouetted by the light of the moon draw closer and closer. He could see his newest recruit perched upon the creation’s head, and his sly smirk widened into a triumphant grin when she jumped down from the skull to the deck. The skeletal dragon hovered above the deck, letting out a mighty roar before it slowly dissolved back into a dusty state, drifting away with the gentle winds.

Law held his arms out wide, a gesture of welcome—and maybe also victory. “Glad to see you will be joining us, Miss Bones.”

Ameria crossed her arms over her chest, unamused by the cocky grin gracing his features. “Luffy holds you in high regards, Captain Trafalgar.” She replied, her eyes narrowing. “Let’s hope nothing happens to make him regret his decision.”

A mild warning, but the surgeon knew she was going to be a little hostile at the beginning. “Please,” he continued. “There is no need to be so formal, Miss Bones. Captain, will suffice.”

“Then mind not calling me Miss Bones?” She retorted. “Makes me feel old.”

“_Ha,_” it was a short burst of small laughter. “When you earn it, Miss Bones.”

“Alright, _Captain Trafalgar._” She spat out with a defiant attitude.

The amusement in his eyes died as he felt his jaw clench. He didn’t approve of that rebellious tone in her voice. He was fully aware of her feelings, but disrespecting his authority when she was the newest member of his crew was unwise. He had noticed she would be reasonable when she was at a disadvantage or in the wrong, but now she was purposely pushing all his buttons.

She eyed him warily, sensing his displeasure. He had hoped she would back down like when they were on Amazon Lily, but she continued with the snark. “I wanna sleep. I’m sleepy after the fly over here.”

Law’s muscles lost some tension when he noticed that she looked pale, extremely pale. There were dark circles under her eyes, and also a distant look in her azure irises. She didn’t get much sleep the last few days and it was well past midnight, plus she must have extended her limits with her magic. Law noted that she could travel pretty far on a skeletal dragon before losing steam, especially when she lacked sleep. The surgeon glanced over her one more time, and he noticed that she appeared to have another battle wound to her arsenal of scars.

“Miss Bones?” Law inquired sternly. “Where did you get that bruise?”

On her side, she had a nasty black and blue blemish; he was quite certain it wasn’t there when he left.

Ameria shrugged it off. “It’s nothing.”

Law eyed her skeptically, but he wasn’t about to let her go running around with a bruise like that. The surgeon was the type of captain that made sure his crew was in tip-top shape at all times, which is why he would use the power of his Devil Fruit to heal them. It was not a perfect process—_yet_—but his men would at least recover faster than the average joe. Though, it was at the cost of draining his own stamina, which is why he had to be extra careful. With that in mind, Law produced Room in the blink of an eye. The blue transparent dome surrounding himself and his newest member. He reached out to heal her, but then she suddenly smacked his hand away. The action dazed him, his knuckles actually stinging from the hit. His eyes opened wide, blinking rapidly, which made the blue dome flicker away as he stared at her dumbfounded.

“_No,_” she whined. “_Idonliit._”

Law narrowed his eyes. “_Excuse me?_” He barely understood her slur, but it was enough for him to grit his teeth in _agony_ at the atrocious string of words she tried to slam together.

Ameria didn’t say anything, but she took another large step back, her cheeks puffed out in annoyance.

Cleon’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two, the navigator unsure of how to deal with the situation. “_Ahem,_” he cleared his throat loudly. “I think she’s fine, Captain,” Cleon placed a hand on Law’s very tense shoulder. “Why don’t I show her to her room? She needs rest. Possibly a _lot_ of sleep.”

Law got the hint, and he desperately hoped her behavior was because of exhaustion and not something else. “Excellent idea.”

Cleon nodded and then he looked to Ameria, a stone cold glare behind the glass of his spectacles. “Follow me, Bones. I’ll take you to your room.” He ordered in a gruff tone as he pivoted on the heel of his boot and marched to the entrance of the submarine with her in tow.

When the large metal door behind them made the echoing clang of closure, Law let out a long sigh.

He had always considered himself the patient type. He took time to carefully calculate plans so they were executed to perfection. Plans needed to work perfectly or else failure was sure to succeed and not him, but social interaction was a different sort of battle. He had trouble dealing with people. Some days, he didn’t like people, especially when those people acted like childish brats.

* * *

As Ameria followed Cleon through the narrow metal halls of the submarine, she barely paid attention to the navigator at all. The navigator lectured her about the captain’s _bad side_, but she didn’t like it when he did weird things to her body. While she was stitched up afterwards, but it also still hurt. It left an unnatural tingle that was like a terrible aftertaste of prickly, rotten yogurt stuck in her throat.

Within time, Cleon stopped the lecture and started to grumble the general locations of places around the submarine as they traveled deeper into its steel belly. He told her where the galley was, but to avoid going there at night because the cook was very particular about his space. The navigator recommended the gym to blow off steam, especially when they could spend a few days underwater like canned tuna. Then there was the sickbay, which included the infirmary and surgical ward. The navigator told her that infirmary cabinet doors were always locked when they were out at sea because it helped cut down on messes when the waters were rough. If she needed anything, she’d have to see the captain or his medical assistant.

“Here…” and then Cleon stopped in front of a closed metal door and started to dig through the contents of his pocket.

They were on the third floor down, which was simply labeled Floor C on a metal plaque at the entryway by the stairs. She watched him fish out a tiny key and then struggle to open the door. He cursed about the damn thing being new. Though, the soft profanities were drowned out when she heard a loud thud from down the hall.

Cleon ignored it, not even caring a bit about the sound. Ameria jumped, startled by the noise.

It was a small group of the crew. One of the men had been pushed over and was lying on the floor in the middle of the hall, his bright aqua hat lying on the floor. He looked to be seething soft curses as a cluster of four men peeked their heads out the doorway. One of them must have noticed that she was looking at them since they all turned to stare at her with crimson cheeks, which made her slightly uncomfortable.

“There—” Cleon broke the silence as he pushed open the metal door, but before he could say another word, she darted through the metal portal like a bullet. He just sighed with a shake of his head. “You’ll want this,” and he stretched out his closed fist. She held out an open palm, the small key he had used falling down with a tiny _tap_ against her pale skin. “Captain had this made. Still a bit tricky to open the door since it’s not done professionally.”

“Oh…” Ameria looked down at the key, witnessing the abnormal grooves and bubbles in the metal; it really was whipped together at the last minute. “Thank you.”

“Thank the Captain,” Cleon retorted. “He’s the one that ordered it to be done, but he told me to say that it’s only for when you go to sleep,” then he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “These dogs aren’t bad once you get to know them, but if it makes you feel better then use it.”

Ameria nodded; how thoughtful.

Cleon hummed and crossed his arms, looking up briefly as if to comb his memory for any more important information. “Think that’s all,” he concluded. “Rest up now because I’m sure Captain will have a list of things you’ll need to do when you wake up.”

Ameria frowned; how unthoughtful.

Then Cleon turned on the ball of his heel and started to march away, his footsteps fading away as she closed the door to her room. With a sigh of relief, she locked the door and prepared to get some rest. But when she looked around, she couldn't even call it a bedroom.

It was a long, but extremely narrow space. An old, dimly lit lightbulb flickered violently when the waves rocked the submarine too harshly, the walls were crammed to the brim with crates, and only a small porthole that she couldn’t even look out because it was almost on the ceiling. There was only a mattress thrown on a section free space of exposed floor, and on top was a few pillows and a pile of blankets folded neatly on top. When she took a peek into one of the crates, she saw they were filled with treasures of all kinds: gold trinkets with diamonds and gems, and decorative silks in all the colors of the rainbow. They placed her with the valuables; how charming.

“What is _this?_ A_ closet?_ You had a bigger room on Sunny and you shared it with two other women!”

She groaned at the grating voice, her eyes closing in annoyance. “_Tanker,_” and she held out the fabric of the cape, a pile of bones plummeting to the floor.

The pile quickly gathered himself up, revealing one of the small skeletons that belonged to her pair of familiars. Tanker was only two feet tall, but her noisy familiar tried to stand taller as he strolled around the confined storage space, his double pair of skeletal arms hooked to his clothed hipbone. He examined the room, going around and around in a tiny circle as the crimson aura glowing from his eye sockets scanned everything in sight. “They are treating you like cargo,” was his conclusion.

“I’d rather be here than sharing bunks with a bunch of strangers that are men.” She countered, glaring at the small skeleton.

Tanker then crossed his double set of bony arms over his ribcage. “They could have at least given you a proper bed.”

Ameria sighed; she wasn’t in the mood to deal with her noisy familiar. She was exhausted, but she would admit that the dysfunctional decorating of her new room was jarring and hazardous looking. Then she got momentarily distracted when her cape began to shift once more. She held out the fabric, gave it a gentle shake and a tiny skull popped out from behind her back. “Oh, good morning, Shnell. Or should I say, good evening,” she greeted with a warm smile and she pat the top of the smaller skeleton’s head.

“_Oh._” Tanker threw up one set of skeletal hands. “**OH,**” and then went the other pair. “He gets a warm welcome but not beautiful me?” He scoffed, insulted. The noisy one pouted, crossing his arms over his ribcage. “I’m offended.”

“You’re a rude familiar,” she was blunt. “Speaking your mind a little too freely. Why do you think I even made Shnell?”

Tanker gasped in horror. “I’m not a reject!” he exclaimed loudly and proudly, pointing four bony fingers at her, each from a separate hand.

“I never said that.” She replied calmly.

“But you implied it.” He huffed, wagging his accusing fingers at her. “You should be proud of me. I can attack things.” He stated boldly, beaming with his skull held high. Then he glared menacingly at the quiet familiar still clinging to Ameria’s hip. “I don’t just sit there lookin’ all cute and gettin’ stepped on. By life.”

Ameria scowled at the noisy one and snapped: “You have piss-poor aim.”

Tanker stared at her with hollow eye sockets. “Is your goal in life just to bring me down?”

She remained silent.

Tanker gasped, slapping all his bony hands to his cheekbones. “It is, isn’t it!? I feel so hurt! So unloved!” He cried dramatically, falling to the metal floor. He placed his hands where his heart should be, sobbing: “Oh woe is _meeeee!_ Someone put an end to my misery!”

Ameria pinched the bridge of her nose. “Go to sleep, Tanker.” She sighed, lifting the fabric of her cape up. Then the annoyed expression softened when she looked down at her hip, cooing: “You too, little Shnell.”

Shnell obeyed her command and slipped behind her back once more, disappearing into the folds of the cape. Tanker begrudgingly followed as well, grumbling all the way as he climbed her leg and then crawled behind her back. Once her familiars were safely tucked inside the folds of the magic woven into her cape to protect them, she turned to look around the room.

_If I’m going to be staying here awhile_, she thought,_ might as well try and do some rearranging_.

She should have just ignored the mess and went to bed, but it looked unsafe. Whenever the submarine rolled with the waves, the towers of crates would creak with the movement. So, she unhooked the pin that held the cloak on her shoulders, the fabric dropping to the ground without a sound, and then she got to work. She unstacked the tilted towers and rearranged them, lining them up neatly and securely along the left wall, which also gave her a bit more space to walk. Then against the opposing wall, she had two rows of crates double stacked and pushed her mattress on top, which became her makeshift bed. When she got a _real_ bed, then the men could sell their hoard. It was a fair trade, though she was one hundred percent certain that the surgeon wouldn’t see it like that.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, she smiled proudly at her handiwork and then she flopped down on the mattress. She curled up underneath the familiar warmth produced by the brown cape, and then pulled the thick blankets on top. The heat comforted her and she was asleep in a matter of seconds. Then loud, violent banging at her door decided to be her rude alarm.

She peeled her weary limbs from the mattress and peered at the rattling door. Then she rolled her eyes, flopping back down on the bed and buried her head under the pillow. If felt like she only got a few minutes of sleep after all the work she did; she wasn’t ready to face the world yet—and the crash of the door hitting the wall made her jolt up, staring at the intruder in shock. She was sure she locked the door.

“_Oi_, when someone knocks, you answer.”

Ameria blinked at the man that stepped into her room. He glared down at her from behind the shadow cast by the bill of his black baseball cap, an irritated scowl in his dark blue eyes. She opened her mouth to protest the intrusion, but another voice came and another person appeared.

“_Nigel!_ Don't be rude. She’s a lady!” The second man stormed in, slapping his open palm to the back of Nigel’s head.

Nigel’s black hat flew from his head because of the impact, the blonde easily catching it and then replacing it back on his head before glaring at the man behind him. “_Fuck you._”

The second man held his stern scowl, but his intimidating stance was hard to take seriously when he wore the most ridiculous looking hat: it was a cartoon-ish cow head that could moo at any second.

“Brodie, dude, she was rude first.” Nigel snapped.

Brodie ignored it and turned to Ameria. “Sorry about the rude—” and he sent another glare towards Nigel before returning with a smile towards her. “—awakening, Miss Bones.”

Ameria furrowed her brows, more concerned about: “How did you get in…?”

The question was directed toward Nigel, and the blonde rolled his eyes. “It was open,” he snorted. “You think that shitty key would actually _work?_ I mean,_ c’mon_, Shachi made the damn thing. Guy’s got no skill when it comes to tinkerin’ n’ shit—” a sharp thunk interrupted him, his head jolting forward. Then something metallic skipped along the floor, a large wrench slamming into the back wall.

“I heard that! _You little shit!!_”

“The _fuck!?_” Nigel roared, whipping around to face the assailant that had entered the room.

The man was shorter than Nigel by a hair, but he stood tall and puffed out his chest to make himself seem more intimidating. “_Got no skill?!_ **Fuck you!** I was workin’ under pressure! Captain only gave me thirty minutes to make the damn thing!” The assailant—who must have been Shachi—barked, his expression stone cold, the dark shades perched upon his nose sending a warning glare. “N’ you shouldn’t even be here!” He added on harshly, poking the provoked Nigel in the chest with a sharp jab of his finger. “This is—!” then his train of thought stopped short when his attention finally landed on her. His posture crumbled where he stood: his shoulders drooped, his back hunched over, his shades slipped down the length of his nose. Even the puffiness of his pink cap deflated and his ginger hair seemed to fizzle from unknown heat. “_Oh._”

Then a hand pushed aside the ginger, revealing a fourth person to invade her room. “What’s up? Why’re you two fighting already—?” He questioned, but then he paused when he noticed the same thing his companion was staring at. “_Oh,_” he echoed.

Nigel mumbled a curse under his breath.

The insult was unknown to Ameria, but Shachi heard it clear as day, and he snapped from the daze. “_Shaddup, fatty!_”

A vein of irritation pulsed against Nigel’s brow. “Do I look _fat_ to you?” He yelled, his cheeks steaming bright cadmium.

“Like a _pig._” Shachi seethed.

“_Why you—_” Nigel hissed through his teeth and lunged for the ginger’s neck.

Like it was second nature, Brodie wedged himself between the two men and pushed Nigel away while the fourth man leapt in and grabbed Shachi, holding him back. Profanities flew through the air like ammunition, never letting up and never ceasing even for a reload.

Ameria pursed her lips. Too many people had invaded her room in the span of five minutes and she could barely process anything, but someone had to try and stop it because the situation wasn’t getting resolved. “_Um_, excuse me?”

“**WHAT!?**” The two men fighting both snapped.

She just blinked, her hands going up to signal that she meant no harm. The four men stared at her, but then Brodie removed himself from the paused fight and cleared his throat obnoxiously, scowling at the two that started a scene. They slowly removed themselves from their awkward positions, the ginger looking rather guilty, but not the blonde. Nigel looked like he didn’t give a damn.

“_Um,_” she mumbled, and then she pointed a finger toward them, asking: “Who are you people exactly?”

The man who wore a hat that vaguely resembled a penguin stepped forward first, grinning with a rosy tint on his cheeks. “I’m Penguin, like the hat says, and I’m the head mechanic on the sub.”

“Whoa!” Shachi recovered from his guilt, sending an angry glare towards Penguin. “_Whoawhoawhoa_ there, not so fast,” and he whacked the head mechanic upside the head, which earned him another sour scowl from Brodie. The ginger ignored him and instead corrected Penguin. “You’re not the _only_ head mechanic here, asshole,” he countered, his hand moving back and forth between them. “We _both_ are.”

“That’s what you think.”

“What’s that supposed to fucking mean?”

Ameria sighed as the two head mechanics started to bicker among themselves, but she cast it aside and turned to the next man with the very interesting cow hat atop his short brown hair. “You’re Brodie, right?”

“Me?” He pointed to himself, and then he smiled with a nod, tipping the bill of his cap. “Yes ma’am. I’m Brodie, Captain’s medical assistant.” Then he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “And that’s Nigel, he’s one of the mechanics. He’s a…_brash_, but a good guy once you get to know him.”

Nigel crossed his arms and scowled, grunting: “Okay. Introductions are outta the goddamn way. Can we move onto why we’re even here?”

“Cleon did mention I would be getting a list of things I need to do…” Ameria murmured with a frown.

Nigel stuffed his hands into his pockets and then jerked his head towards the doorway. “Follow me,” he ordered.

Ameria sighed, but she jumped down from the mattress and followed the blonde mechanic. As they left, Brodie told her he’d been in the sickbay if she ever needed anything, and the two head mechanics hollered to Nigel about the boiler acting up again. Ameria saw Nigel’s shoulders drop as he scratched the patch of blonde hair at the nape of his neck, cursing softly under his breath. Then he stopped abruptly at an open doorway, twisting on his heel to enter the room. There were two industrial size washing machines and dryers against the far wall, stacked atop each other so it looked like the low ceiling was compressing them together. Off to the side there were baskets filled with towels and white suits covered in oil, and there was even a hamper filled with clothing she assumed belonged to the captain.

“Here,” Nigel handed her a note. “Cleon wrote it out for you.”

She took the tiny piece of paper and unfolded it, and a frown appeared on her lips. “_Really?_” Her brows furrowed into a straight line of annoyance. “This has to be the stupidest list of requests for laundry I have ever read in my entire life.”

“Don’t be a brat about it,” he rolled his eyes. “Just get it done, n’ stay outta everyone’s way. We’ve got maintenance to keep up or we won’t stay afloat.”

“But…this is a _submarine._”

Nigel shot her one last glare before he disappeared, but his heavy footsteps still ricocheted off the walls.

Ameria stared at the baskets full of dirty clothes, sighed, and then got to work. She still felt drowsy, and she found herself dozing off between loads until the machine’s timers woke her up. The rumble of the stacked washers and dryers vibrated the floor ever so slightly as she sat on the floor, folding each article of clean clothing neatly before placing them into the plastic baskets. She was surrounded by a sea of baskets and clothes, but instead of piles of unkempt fabric stained by oil or grease, it was all clean and smelled fresh like pine.

“_Oi,_ brat.”

She stopped halfway through folding a black undershirt when she heard the familiar term and also insulting title, then she glanced up at the doorway to see Nigel scowling at down her.

“C’mon,” and he jerked his head to the side. “Captain wants everyone on deck,” then without another word, he turned on his heel, disappearing from view.

Ameria groaned, but she got up and hurried after the blonde mechanic since his long strides almost carried him to the stairwell at the end of the hall. She didn’t know her way around the submarine yet, so she ran to catch up to him when he vanished. Though, she nearly knocked him over when she accidentally rammed into his back as she rounded a corner. He shot her a nasty glare before marching away, and she stayed a few feet behind him after that. She let him navigate the narrow maze of halls until they reached the familiar Floor A, which was just a single hallway that held the small staircase that led to the submarine’s deck.

The scent of salt filled her nose, her senses engulfed by the feeling of the wind combing her short ebony locks. The crispness sobered up her, striking her senses with refreshed life. The bright sunlight of early morning kissed her exposed skin as her cape danced with the breeze. The open sea: she sighed in relief. It felt like she’d been trapped for years in the belly of the submarine. Then she noticed that it was the sun that greeted her and not the moon, and she realized just how much time had passed without proper sleep. The thought made her pale.

The rest of the crew was already on deck. The men were laughing and chatting among themselves and a few were even smoking away at cigarettes. Then Shachi nudged the man standing next to him in the gut with his elbow. The man in the maroon beanie growled at the ginger, but then he looked to where the ginger was eagerly pointing. It was like a chain reaction; almost every pair of cheeks turned red as every pair of eyes stared at her.

Ameria’s eyes darted around awkwardly and she ducked behind Nigel’s tall form. Brash as he may have been, at least he wasn’t acting like a creepy, swooning fool.

“Thank you for bringing Miss Bones, Nigel.”

Ameria peered around the blonde mechanic again to see the surgeon. Law was lounging on the deck, using a—believe it or not—polar bear as a pillow. Admittedly, she felt a little jealous, and the feeling was fueled with even more hatred when he had that same smug smirk plastered on his lips and his grey eyes were filled with amusement.

She mustered up the most rotten of scowls she could and shot it at the surgeon. “What is it now?”

Law crossed his arms, the amusement on his features shifting to something more serious. “Fight Nigel.”

“_What?_” She stuttered, her eyes opening wide. Her startled gaze turned to the blonde mechanic as he walked away to the center of the deck, cracking his knuckles along the way. His mates shouted at him to go easy, or threatened him not to hurt a hair on her pretty head, but the blonde mechanic just barked at them all to shut up, because it was the captain's orders. Ameria stood there, dumbstruck as she looked back at the surgeon. “W—_Why?_”

“Research,” was the simple reply.

Ameria’s shoulders dropped. The surgeon was taking advantage of observing her magic in action now that she joined his crew, but she was at an extreme disadvantage. If he wanted to see her arsenal of animations, he was in for a rude awakening. Then she looked back at the blonde mechanic. Nigel was calm, standing with hands in his pockets and his head tilted to the side as he watched her closely. He was waiting for her to make the first move; that was surprising since he seemed like an eager beaver when it came to fighting.

Cautiously, she took small strides towards the blonde mechanic, his dark blue eyes observing every move she made. When she went to the left, he went to the right; when she went to the right, he went left. Soon they were just making alternating circles around the deck. She could see the blonde mechanic’s brow twitching ever so slightly, a vein forming along the skin. Then he pounced. He lunged, fingers balled in a fist and stance prepared to deliver a left hook to her cheek. His knuckles grazed her skin as she leaned away, but she felt a sharp burn instantaneously. Wincing, she didn’t have time to see his foot suddenly appear at her eye level.

She flew from the force, but her fall was cushioned by a small group of the crew that caught her. They helped her regain her lost balance, and then they shouted curses at the blonde mechanic, but Nigel just shrugged them off as he steadied himself in an offensive fighting position.

Carefully, her fingertips touched the sore and she felt something wet. Her hand retreated and she saw her skin was stained crimson: blood. She pursed her lips in thought. Nigel had used the momentum of his punch to fuel the force of a roundhouse kick that made contact with the side of her head. It was to be expected since she knew the Heart Pirates were known to be masters at hand-to-hand combat. She had witnessed that at the Auction House.

She looked back at the blonde mechanic, but instead she noticed the sour expression on the surgeon’s face. He wasn’t entertained by her performance.

“_C’moooon,_” Nigel egged her on with a cocky grin. “Why don’tcha use your stupid bones already, _huh?_”

“_Tch,_” she scoffed, ignoring the dull pounding coming from the side of her head. “Like I can do that in the middle of the ocean.”

“Need dust, _eh?_” Nigel snorted, his smirk falling to a frown. “If you can’t do what you can on land, then you’re a waste of space at sea, right?”

Her eyes narrowed, her cheeks blistering red from the insult. She trembled with rage, she knew a spell or two that would show him.

She leaped back into the fight, charging the blonde mechanic. Her aggressiveness took him by surprise, but he sprinted towards her with an eager grin returning to his features. Yet, it fell to a frown when she stopped dead in her tracks, unpinning the cape around her shoulders. The crew gasped in delight when she threw the material up in the air, all eyes trained on the piece of clothing fluttering in the wind. Though the cheeky looks turned to baffled expressions when they heard an unexpected high-pitched screaming.

Nigel's eyes opened wide. “What the f—!” but his curse was silenced when Tanker’s small bony body collided with his head.

“**Amerrriaaaaaa!**” Tanker screeched at the top of his lungs—if he had any—clinging to the bewildered mechanic’s head. “**Don’t throw me by the eye sockets! You’ll ruin my beautiful spectacles!**”

“You're a skeleton, you don’t have eyes.”

“Crush a guy’s dream, why don’tcha.”

Nigel ripped the small skeleton from his head and growled at it, making Tanker squeal in fear from the menacing glare he received. Then the blonde mechanic threw the skeleton like a baseball over the submarine’s railing, the screams of the noisy familiar lasting until the sound of a splash ceased it. “What the_ fuck?!_” He roared, his face crimson, but then all the color drained from his cheeks.

In her hands was a glowing orb of grey that she pushed towards the blonde mechanic. The orb hissed through the air, the noise warping into manic laughter as the ball transformed into the image of a skull with burning red eyes.

Nigel crossed his forearms to shield his face before the skull could make contact, but when it did, the orb just dispersed into mist. The blonde mechanic blinked in confusion, but then suddenly he began to tremble violently. He clutched his head and went to his knees, screaming in pain.

Ameria’s shoulders slouched and her knees felt weak. Her chest rose and fell, and she heard the scurrying of the men around her as they tried to keep as much distance as possible. Though, she cleared her throat and regained her composure and then looked toward the surgeon that seemed rather amused by her curious new display of magic.

And then she flipped him the bird, saying: “Fuck you, and fuck your research,” before she stormed away back into the submarine.

* * *

Bepo shifted uncomfortably where he sat. “Captain…” the polar bear worriedly said as he looked between the surgeon and the crew trying to calm down the blonde mechanic. “Should I go get her? Y’know…to fix Nigel?”

“Hmm…” Law hummed, drumming his fingertips against the metal case of his nodachi.

The surgeon observed Nigel, the blonde mechanic had gone into mass hysteria and was curled up on the floor, clutching his head. Then Law got up and strolled over to the large crowd, the men clearing a path for their captain. Crouching down, the surgeon examined the blonde mechanic and saw no physical damage, but his usually dark blue eyes had turned a misty shade of grey. Listless like the void, yet Nigel continued to scream in agony as he held his head like something was in his mind. While Law was interested in the bone mage’s new spell, he first had to fix Nigel. If _something_ flew into the blonde mechanic’s head, then that _something_ could be knocked out. Then he slapped the back of Nigel’s head as hard as he could.

A grey mist propelled from the skin of Nigel’s face, the eerie grey film giggling ominously before disappearing altogether. The dark blue color of Nigel’s eyes returned and he stopped screaming.

“_Interesting,_” Law mumbled, intrigued.

Nigel was still in a cold sweat, but he managed to scowl at the surgeon. “Fuck you,” which earned the blonde mechanic a short kick in the back from the ginger that stood behind him. “Fuck you, too. Kickin’ a man when he’s down.”

“Careful, Mister Nigel,” Law warned. “Remember you agreed to help me with this little experiment, after all.”

Nigel rolled his eyes, but nodded and mumbled a quick apology under his breath as Brodie helped him to his feet.

Then Law sent his crew to work, allowing the men to get back to their duties. Law remained on deck for a minute longer, retrieving her cape along the way. It would be a sign of peace since he did quite the job of pissing her off, but he was pleased with the data collected. Her magic resonated with dust, which transformed said material into skeletal animations. However, when there was little dust, she couldn’t use this technique and used, what he would assume, was pure magic. It seemed like a curse, a poorly implied one if a whack upside the head could lift it, but a curse nonetheless. Since she was an official member of his crew, he decided it was time for answers, _real_ answers.

Law figured she retreated back to her room, but when he reached Floor B he saw that almost every door had been opened and he heard someone going through his sickbay. Peeking into the room, he saw Ameria was going through his cabinets, or trying to. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her struggle as she pulled on each locked handle looking for a band-aid; she was chanting the word. She was crouched down, testing each of the lower cabinets since she probably already tried the top row. It was amusing; until she found one that wasn’t locked.

“Fuck me, and fuck my research,” he repeated some familiar words.

She jumped, the top of her head pounding against the inside of the cabinet. Tumbling backward, she clutched the back of her head with a hiss of pain.

Law sighed and shook his head as he walked into the room. “Going through my things, Miss Bones?” When he stood beside her balled up form, he looked down at her. “Not very polite, is it? And here I brought you a present,” and he dropped the cape on her head.

Her expression was covered by the cloth for a second, but when she pulled it away, he could see the burning desire to talk back in her shaking azure eyes. Surprisingly, she remained silent and instead she stood up to replace the cape back on her shoulders. When she was preoccupied with the pin, he took a step closer to her and grabbed her head. He felt the startled jerk as she tried to remove his grasp, but he held firm.

“Hold still.” He ordered, his fingers probing through her hair to see the wound. “_Hmm,_” he inspected it. “It’s scabbing. It should be fine, but if you feel dizziness at any point see Brodie or me immediately, understand?”

She nodded.

He then let her go. She twirled on her heel to escape, but before she was out of reach, he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around again, his steely grey eyes meeting her startled blue ones. His slender fingers gently touched her chin, her cheeks bursting bright red and her gaze drifted quickly to the side. Then his forefinger and thumb locked onto her chin like a vice and he forced her to look at him.

“Miss Bones,” a haunting tone that matched the grin on his lips. He watched the color drain from her cheeks as his cold stare sent a warning. “Watch your tongue, or you might find it missing one day.”

Her eyes opened wide in shock, and a tiny bead of sweat slipped down her pale cheek. “T—That’s not very nice.”

Law blinked. “…_What?_”

“That’s _mean,_” she repeated sheepishly, glancing down at the floor. “Do you really say stuff like that to your crew…?”

Law blinked again. “…Miss Bones,” he drew out slowly. “You do realize I have the ability to remove body parts _without_ causing bodily harm, correct?”

She didn’t respond, but the revelation about the quirks of his Devil Fruit didn’t seem to startle her either. By the look in her eyes, he saw that she was upset at the implication that a captain would harm his crew as punishment.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Law continued to explain. “It’s just a minor inconvenience for a few hours,” then he crossed his arms over his chest, and a sly smirk curled his lips. “Keep up the sour attitude and you’ll see that for yourself.”

Ameria took a large step backwards, making sure she was out of arm’s length. “Sorry,” she murmured, glancing toward the floor. “I still haven’t gotten enough sleep, so I might be a tad bit grouchy still.”

Law arched a brow and curiously asked: “I made sure Nigel didn’t wake you until nine this morning. You should have gotten a solid eight hours of sleep, Miss Bones.”

“I rearranged the room…” She admitted softly. “It was messy…and looked unsafe.”

Law closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, his brow twitching angrily. “I also told Mister Nigel to clean up the room. _He probably thought you wouldn’t come and didn’t even bother…_” he grumbled that last part bitterly under his breath. Then he looked back to Ameria, sighing softly. “Go sleep. We’ll have a discussion about your mock battle tomorrow.”

Ameria nodded tiredly and then shuffled out of the room as Brodie walked into the sickbay infirmary. The medical assistant greeted her, but Ameria mumbled something so soft under her breath that Brodie looked to Law for clarification.

“She’s fine, but…” he trailed off, frowning deeply in disappointment. “Do you happen to know where Mister Nigel is, Brodie? I need to have a little discussion with him about _following orders…_”

* * *

The largest, and formerly newest, member of the Heart Pirates sat alone on the deck of the submarine, staring up at the night sky. The wind tossed his long black hair behind him, and he reflected on how peaceful it was. Then he heard muffled cursing and the sounds of something tapping on metal. There was a splash as something hit the deck, and Jean Bart looked over his muscular shoulder to see the rumored skeletal being the blonde mechanic had thrown into the ocean.

“Stupid, heartless woman.” It mumbled, wringing out the soaked robes clinging to its frail body. “Using me like a_ toy_, a_ thing_. How rude. I hope she gets_ fleas_. And _ticks_. A _DEER_ tick. She needs to burn like those little vermin. _Burn_, I say. **BURN**—” The skeleton stopped when it noticed it was being watched. “_Ahem,_” it cleared its throat, if it even had one. “Where’s that no-good-for-nothing mage’s room?”

“Through that door, down the stairs, take a right to the first flight of stairs, and then go down the hall to the second. Then go down the first hall you see, fifth door on the left.” Bart replied; he wanted his peace to return.

“Thank you, kind large sir.” The skeleton said gentlemen-like with a bow. Then it walked over to the door, struggling to open the large metal plate that acted like a barrier.

Bart sighed and looked back to the stars trying to ignore the pile of bones banging on the metal door. So much for peace.


	3. Chapter 3

#  **Fool's Gold**

_Purupurupuru_

The hand that wrote ceased when the sleeping den-den mushi upon his desk suddenly woke. The snail’s droopy eyes stared blankly, blinking lazily at the hand that was hesitant to pick up the receiver. Slowly, the hand reached forward to answer the call, but before the recipient could even say a word, the den-den mushi spoke.

“_Have you made any progress?_”

The recipient’s hand flinched, and there was a long pause. When the den-den mushi’s mouth opened again, the recipient finally spoke. “N—ahem,” the deep tone of a man cleared his throat. “I’m afraid not, Sir.”

“_And why not?_” The sleepy eyes of the den-den mushi narrowed into a glare to match the tone of the caller. “_I have given this task you, yet you’re making no effort to even try. Do you not car—_”

“I do care!” The recipient shouted, his voice going a pitch higher than he would have liked. “Just…you promise to keep your word?”

“…”

The silence was unwavering, and made the recipient shift uncomfortably in his seat. “…Sir?”

“_Yes. I shall keep my end of the bargain only if you can uphold your end._”

The recipient clutched the receiver tightly in his hand. “Then you better be ready to sign the papers.”

* * *

Seagulls ruled the skies, circling around the bustling port. The docks were crowded with commercial sailors loading and unloading merchant wares, the men pushing past one another to get from point A to point B. There were even some noteworthy pirates that blended in with the masses, unlike the small patrols of Marines that roamed the narrow streets. Three large warships were docked on the other side of the bay, the far section of the port that was for military usage only.

Law frowned at the sight; he had wanted to lay low for a while.

“We should make this quick, Captain.” Cleon spoke up at his side. “As long as we stick to Cove, we shouldn’t draw any unnecessary attention.”

Law nodded.

Cove was the seedier end of town where pirates tended to dwell on the small island of Gelluain. The Marines wouldn’t make frequent trips to Cove since most of the locals and wealthy merchants remained near the base located on the island. Only when a truly heinous pirate docked did the Marines decide to play hero. Law hoped they would be long gone before the Marines heard rumor of his presence on Gelluain.

Law shook the negative thoughts from his mind and continued on. “Have the goods been all unloaded, Cleon?”

“Unloaded and ready to sell.” Cleon responded. “Shachi took a few to look for potential buyers and Penguin is scouting Cove for supplies. However, I think we’ll probably have to wait until Sabaody to get proper supplies for submarine repairs. While we were able to avoid most conflict in the Calm Belt, we still took a beating from that one octopus that inked us.”

Law tapped the metal case of his nodachi in thought. “Hmm, I see. From what Charles told me, the ink had a corrosive property,” which meant his beautiful vessel had some rusted holes that pierced her sides.

“Luckily it didn’t eat through the metal entirely.” Cleon pointed out.

“But we shouldn’t let the damages linger…” Law frowned. “My darling Flevance looks better in pure yellow.”

“Also…” Cleon trailed off, pursing his lips before he continued.

Law looked to his navigator, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I suggest you look into funding a proper bed for Ameria…” Cleon scratched the side of his cheek. “We…somewhat dismantled the one she made.”

“N’ tatters!”

Cleon jolted at the shout behind him, and he whipped around with a few choice words at the tip of his tongue. But the words never came since his face was assaulted by the back of a metal spoon.

“I ‘new ye’d forget da tatters!” The old man roared at the top of his lungs, the white hairs of his long beard bristling like an angry cat’s whiskers. “I ask ye somet’in simple, ye old coot! Tell da cap’tin we outta tatters, ‘n ye can’t even do tat! I ‘new comin’ was ta right t’in ta do,” and he stared at the navigator with rage shaking his irises.

“SAL!” Cleon barked, shoving the spoon away from his face, but there was already a giant red spot with a cluster of six white holes in the middle of his face. “I wasn’t done yet! And me? An old coot? You’re older, and cootier—” the navigator was cut off when the spoon hit him square in the nose again.

“Cootier ain’t ta word!”

Law crossed his arms and chuckled lightly, a small smirk on his face. “Don’t worry,” Law spoke up. “We’ll get your tatters.”

“Captain!” Cleon pushed the spoon away from his face, his eyes wide behind his glasses. “Don’t say that! It’s not even the correct nickname for potato—” again, he was cut off by the forcefulness of the cook’s spoon.

“Cap’tin calls ‘em wha ‘e wants!”

Cleon pushed the spoon away for the last time and marched away, steam pouring from his ears and his head hung low as he cursed up a storm, which made him nearly run into Ameria when she walked towards them. She eyed the navigator warily, but continued to stumble forward until she stood between the surgeon and the cook. Sal’s harsh expression lightened as he took off his chef’s hat, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight. The cook nodded towards her politely before he put his hat back on and then stalked off to harass the navigator even more.

“Um…” Ameria twirled a lock of ebony hair between her fingers, her eyes focused on the action. “Brodie said you wanted to see me.”

“Of course, my little bone mage,” Law smirked. “There was something I needed to address.”

Ameria snapped from her trance and scowled at the surgeon disapprovingly. “I told you not to call me that. I am not a bone mage, I am a necromancer.”

“Yet all I’ve seen you do is make bones, Miss Bones.” Law teased. “When I see you summon ghosts, make zombies wake and call upon the long since dead, then I will call you a necromancer.”

The bone mage glowered at him, but refrained from talking back, she hadn’t taken what he said about his usual punishment lightly. However, most of the time it was an empty threat to keep his crew in line. Very rarely did he actually do it, but she didn’t need to know that. Conversations were more peaceful, and benefiting for him, when she thought he was serious.

“So,” Ameria finally spoke, her tone calm and soft. “What is it?”

“Ah, yes.” Law clicked his tongue blissfully as he said: “As charming as you look in those Amazon clothes, Miss Bones, I think you need something less distracting. If you know what I mean.”

She glared in response.

Law chuckled and placed a hand on her shoulder, leaning in close to whisper. “Tell Cleon I said to give you money and go for a shopping trip. And, uh,” he added. “Take Nigel with you. We don’t want any trouble, if you know what I mean.”

Ameria scoffed, ripping her shoulder from his grasp and then sent him another scornful glower, but she held her tongue at bay.

Law watched her go, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. She just made it too easy. He always enjoyed a good bit of taunting; getting under people’s skin was a hobby of his, which was why social interaction was not his best suit. His crew was used to his snark, and he accepted some snark back from them depending on the situation. It was all in good fun, after all.

“You should be careful there, Captain.”

Law looked to the side to see Brodie walking up to stand beside him at the deck’s railing. There was a curious look to the medical assistant’s young features, but the surgeon also noticed concern. “It was only a joke,” Law rolled his eyes. “She will get used to it in time.”

“_Yeeeah,_” Brodie awkwardly drew out slowly has he scratched the side of his cheek. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Mister Brodie?” Law’s brows furrowed together.

“It looks like flirting,” Brodie was blunt.

Law choked on any words he could have used as a response.

“Yup. Looks like flirting,” Brodie repeated. “Don’t forget that Ameria is a girl on your crew. So, I’d lighten up on the ‘teasing’,” Brodie airquoted the word before he turned on his heel and head to the gangplank.

When Law said he expected snark in certain situations, this was sadly one of those times. His medical assistant was the one that knew how to get under his skin the most, probably because they spent the most time together in the sickbay. It was aggravating, but Brodie was right. Law decided it would be best to lighten up or his crew could get the wrong idea, and most importantly, the bone mage. She was just settling in to their arrangement for becoming a member of his crew; he didn’t want a misunderstanding to complicate it further. Though, the thought of that only gave him a headache and he decided that a firm drink was needed to clear his head. Booze was a bitter, but good medicine in certain cases.

Law headed to the nearest bar, which was right across from his darling submarine, Flevance. A few of his men were already lounging in the seedy establishment, drinking cheap beer, eating spicy chicken wings and chatting with the pretty servers that were waiting on their table. Law would have joined them, but he knew his boys would be flirting; only a handful didn’t flirt with every pretty woman they saw. Law wanted to be apart of the category, but after what his medical assistant pointed out to him, the surgeon felt better avoiding any situation that dealt with women for the rest of the day if possible. So, Law went to the bar.

It was crowded, but there were a few seats open and he slipped onto one of the stools. The hefty bartender eyed him and nodded, acknowledging the surgeon as a patron, but had to deal with two other customers first. There was a small argument between two men about who would pay the tab, but apparently neither of them had the money to pay for their drinks. Then the bartender hoisted the two men clear over the counter and shoved them into the kitchen to work off their tab.

The bartender brushed his hands together as he approached the surgeon with an expressionless look on his rough features. “What’ll it be?”

“Rum,” was the surgeon’s simple reply.

“Make it two, and on me.”

Law’s head snapped up and he looked over to see a man smirking towards the bartender, waving his middle and forefingers to usher speedy service.

The man had a young complexion, but there was a large scar that ran down the left side of his face. His long hair was a dark shade of brown and pulled back into a ponytail that cascaded down his back. He wore simple clothing of red trousers and white over shirt, making him blend in with the locals. At first glance, he looked to be a fisherman, but the surgeon knew better.

“Well, well, well,” Law smirked. “If it isn’t McCoy Douglass, Captain of the Stallion Pirates. I haven’t seen you since that raid back in the North Blue. Still being a pain in the ass for the Marines?”

Douglass placed a hand on the surgeon’s shoulder, shaking it firmly. “Of course, my friend! I wouldn’t be the Marine’s Charley Horse otherwise! So, Trafalgar, I seen you’ve done well in the Grand Line. A supernova that earned his name, eh? I’m sure you have tales to tell an old friend.”

“Too many to count,” Law replied coolly. Then two glasses of rum were placed before the surgeon and the captain in disguise. Law took the glass’s rim between his fingers, yet didn’t take a sip and instead gently swayed it back and forth. “And this is on you?”

“Mm-hmm,” Douglass hummed as he tipped back the small glass, downing the contents in one swig. “It’s what mates cut of the same cloth do, right?”

“I know well enough that this isn’t for free.” Law stated bluntly and he placed the glass back down on the bar, looking at the disguised captain. “I remember the first time we met, you pulled the same trick on me and got me pulled into that raid. So, what do you want this time, Mister Douglass?”

Douglass chuckled, putting his hands up lazily in the air. “You caught me, you caught me. I could never get anything past you,” then he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the bar and whispered: “I need a bit of help, you see.”

“Another raid?” Law scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m trying to lay low, Mister Douglass.”

“Even for a fortune?”

Law eyed the captain in disguise. “…you’ve piqued my interest,” because when Douglass said fortune, he meant fortune. That raid they went on helped Law and his crew cover all the costs for what they needed to get into the Grand Line and also for all the repairs they suffered afterwards. Without that raid on Trilhanian Castle, the Heart Pirate’s tale through the Grand Line would have been vastly different.

Douglass smirked, and began his request with an explanation. “Well, we’ve been here awhile now and I’ve heard some things,” the disguised captain leaned in closer, hushing his voice to the point where the surgeon could barely hear him. “Seems the Marines are hiding something pretty in that tower of theirs: an artifact of power, they call it. So rare and unique that it’s going to be shipped off to Vegapunk for research.”

“And let me guess,” Law interrupted. “It’s due to ship out tomorrow.”

“Tonight,” Douglass corrected. “I have a plan. There is a small port on the other side of Cove where we can dock. When the sun sets, my men and I will keep the base’s soldiers busy while you get the artifact. I know with your powers you can get in and out of the base no issue. Then we split the profits fifty-fifty.”

“I remember that last time that you ran away with a majority of the plunders,” Law smirked, resting his cheek against his knuckles. “I let it slide because my split was sufficient enough for the job, but this time I’m saying the stakes will be higher and if you run off with more…”

“Well, I did most of the work that time,” Douglass clarified. “But this time, the plan has us doing fifty-fifty of the work, so we get fifty-fifty of the profit, yeah?”

“I see, I see,” Law nodded slowly. “I do love a good fortune. I think you have a deal, Mister Douglass.”

Douglass greedily grinned then held out his hand. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Trafalgar,” and the two captain’s shook on it.

* * *

Ameria skipped out of her room and did a small spin, her feet no longer confined to flimsy leather sandals with holes, but instead covered by a pair of comfortable brown leather boots. A fond smile was plastered on her lips as she smoothed the wrinkles of her shirt, the copper amulet resting on the clean fabric just below her bosom. Wearing new clothes always felt refreshing, and the color white made it feel even more like that: white jeans, a matching tank-top and a large white jacket for her familiars to hideout in.

“What’d ya think?” She asked Nigel, the blonde mechanic none too happy that he had to wait outside her room so he could see her new outfit.

“Gorgeous,” He spat sarcastically. “Can I go now? It’s almost time to eat, and food is always better when Sal gets fresh stuff.”

“Really?” Ameria tilted her head to the side in thought. “Doesn’t it seem a bit early to have dinner?”

“Shachi came by and said it would be ready,” Nigel answered. “But does that really matter? Food’s ready when food’s ready,” and then he turned on his heel and marched off to the galley with the bone mage in tow.

The galley was one of the more spacious rooms on the submarine, despite the low ceiling. It housed circular tables that were nailed to the metal flooring just like the iron stools around them. It was always cramped during meal times, but in the times between meals, it was a ghost town due to the fact that Sal didn’t want anyone messing with his galley and kitchen, including the captain. Only the young mechanic known as Samuel had permission to enter the galley and kitchen outside of scheduled meal times. If anyone else did, then they would get the ladle to the face.

The crew had already gathered, chowing down on a stew that Sal had prepared with the fresh beef and vegetables from the market, but the bone mage noted that there seemed to be more potatoes in it than anything else. But it was still good since the men seemed more blissful when they ate good food, asking for seconds and thirds rather than finishing one helping and then leaving.

“Oi,” the stern voice of the captain suddenly pierced the good mood, and silence hung overhead. Law stood in the doorway of the galley with a dark expression on his features, his nodachi resting against his shoulder. “Hurry up. We’re going on a raid tonight,” was all he said and he turned to leave.

The crew followed orders, hastily scarfing down the last bits of their meal, but Cleon slammed his hands down on the table where he sat. His face was red and he dashed after the surgeon furiously, shouting about how they were supposed to be laying low.

Ameria found herself getting curious at the idea of a raid. It wasn’t something they did when she was with the Straw Hats. She didn’t bother finishing her meal and just slid her bowl towards Nigel—who ate the helping without a word—and she left to find the surgeon and navigator, but she only stumbled upon an argument.

“Captain, a raid? You can’t possibly be serious! What possessed you to even go on a raid?!”

“An offer I couldn’t refuse just so happened to come my way, Cleon. Sometimes you just need to go with the flow.”

“The flow?! What fiend got you to agree to go with the flow that is going to get us captured, or even worse, killed!”

“It was Mister Douglass.”

“Of course! Of course, it was him, that rotten animal!”

“I agreed to help him, sadly the word fortune blinded me before I had the chance to assess the situation fully. I am human, I make mistakes, but I’m not going to back down now. You know Mister Douglass researches thoroughly on his targets.”

“Those are the warships of that Rear Admiral! That Rear-Fucking-Admiral!”

“And?”

“And? AND?! We can’t handle that right now, AND you know it!”

“Cleon, seriously. Just shut up.”

“B—But maybe he’s right.” The interjection trained their eyes on her, and she gulped, almost regretting her decision to speak up. “If we can’t handle it…then maybe he’s right.” Then she looked down at her feet, trying to avoid the surgeon’s eyes. She closed her eyes tightly when she heard the click of his heels draw closer and she pursed her lips when she felt the pain of his nails biting into the skin of her chin.

“Look at me, Miss Bones.”

Her head was jerked to face him directly and his nails dug deeper until her eyes shot open. His steely grey eyes were menacing, burning with an anger that made her blood go cold. The low lighting made his grim expression behind the shadow cast by the brim of his hat even darker and only the white of his eyes were visible.

“Didn’t I tell you to watch your tongue?”

“Bu—but,” her cheeks went pale, but her chest was under fire by swarming heat.

“Tongue,” Law snapped. “Watch it.”

She clamped her mouth shut and nodded, dumbfounded.

Law released his hold on her chin with a scoff and he turned away. “Be ready,” he commanded coldly. “We leave in an hour.”

She watched him walk away, her lips pursed and her brows furrowed in concern. She felt she was walking on thin ice that was melting away inch by inch in the sunlight.

Cleon walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder and he gave her a somewhat apologetic look. “I…” he paused, closing his eyes in thought. “I don’t know how to say this,” he then said, looking down at the hall where the surgeon had rounded the corner out of sight. “He’s not so hot-headed like this usually. He’s levelheaded and plans accordingly, but right now…he’s spooked.”

* * *

The feeling in the air was tense as waves of uncertainty clung to the members of the Heart Pirates. The men in boilersuits stood alert as they eyed the Marine Base through the trees. The Marine’s Charley Horse barked orders to his men as they unloaded abnormally large crates from their large galleon. The pirate captain stood tall, his long brown hair fluttering freely in the breeze like the gold hoops dangling from his earlobes. The green fabric of his trench coat blended in with the foliage of the woods, just like the coats of his crew. The men where almost invisible at the forest’s edge, even as they opened the crates and started to build. No wonder this man had been given his epithet by the Marines; he was a pain in the ass they couldn’t see coming. The Marine base past the trees wouldn’t know what hit them. The base was well known as the Red Wall, the nickname holding true since the stone walls seemed to glow like a cadmium beacon under the light of the moon. Yet, that light wouldn’t help them now. The idea of a raid wasn’t upsetting to the Heart Pirates, like it had been for Cleon, but they didn’t like the idea anymore when they had witnessed their captain sneak off into a Marine Base, alone.

“Don’t worry, gentlemen.” Captain McCoy Douglass stepped between the worried Shachi and Penguin, slamming his hands down on their shoulders. The Charley Horse looked at one head mechanic and then the other, a grin on his scarred face. “The plan is foolproof as long as we stick to our catapults.”

Penguin peeled off a ring covered finger from his shoulder, taking the pale hand with it. “Right,” and he took a step away from the other pirate captain and folded his arms over his chest. “And what exactly is this plan?”

Shachi violently shrugged the other captain’s hand from his shoulder and then snapped: “You haven’t explained a damn thing to us yet.”

“I thought you guys would’ve figured it out already, knowing what I did last time.” The Charley Horse sighed, shaking his head. “Follow me, follow me,” and then he turned on his heel, ushering two fingers towards the head mechanics.

Despite their wariness, they followed the other pirate captain and stood beside him, rather shocked at what they saw. He wasn’t being an idiot when he replaced the word guns with catapults in the old saying. Charley Horse’s men hammered away at giant nails, screwed metal plates to wood for extra support, and soon there were six large catapults hidden by the shadows of the trees. The man really pulled out the works when it came to messing with the marines.

“My men and I will cover the frontlines,” Douglass began sternly. “The rest of you will stay with the catapults and cover us. I’m proud to say my men are tough, but three warships full and even we will have trouble. Try your best to remain hidden. We don’t want the Marines finding out that it’s you guys here or else the Rear Admiral inside will surely go after Trafalgar. When the Marines see us on the frontlines, they will assume that my men are hiding in the tree. The point is to give Trafalgar enough time to get in and out.”

Shachi placed a hand on his hip as the other fiddled with the aqua bill of his cap in thought. “Hmm, seems easy enough.”

“Captain should find this artifact of power easily,” Penguin added. “Ope-Ope will make it easy to avoid Marines, too.”

The Charley Horse frowned, eyeing Penguin curiously. “You sure about that?”

Penguin smirked. “A hundred percent.”

* * *

Law wanted to strangle Douglass for dragging him into this godforsaken raid, but if the surgeon could strangle himself first, he would. He felt irresponsible for blindly accepting an alliance without knowing the enemy, especially when Douglass told him who the enemy was. Law didn’t like to show weakness towards his rivals—Douglass was still his rival despite the short alliance for a raid—only his crew knew this small trigger that drove him into a corner.

Suddenly the stone corridor turned an eerie shade of red, and Law ducked, hiding within the shadows of a doorway as he saw a group of Marines run down the hall with rifles in hand. The sirens started blaring, signaling to the entire garrison that there was an attack underway. He ground his teeth together. He hoped his crew would be alright in the midst of this madness. He shook the thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. The coast was clear and he rushed down the hall where the Marines had come storming down.

The top of the main tower, he remembered, just need to get there and this will all be over and—

“What the hell is going on?!”

Law came to a screeching halt when he heard the sudden shout, his eyes opening wide. That voice. He heard footsteps drumming against the wooden floors and he hauled his ass out of sight. He pressed his back to the wall, trying to merge with it and his knuckles went white as his fingers grasped his nodachi tightly.

“You! Tell me what’s going on!”

Law held his breath, his head instantly feeling dizzy. Too close.

“S—Sir! The Heart Pirates are attacking Red Wall, Sir!”

Law’s heart dropped; that wasn’t part of the plan.

“What? The Heart Pirates…interesting. Is he after the artifact…? _Tch_, stupid idiots were gossiping in town when they shouldn’t have been. What’s the damage so far?”

“Bad, Sir! They set up catapults in the forest, Sir!”

“Catapults? That’s an elaborate set up… Not really something he’d do.”

“A—Also, Sir…it seems that only the members of the Heart Pirates are manning the catapults. There is no sign of their captain, Sir!”

“…”

Law closed his eyes, his brows knitted in concern as sweat clouded his skin. Please don’t say it, please don’t say it, his mind chanted over and over.

“Go to the front, soldier. I’m going to look around.”

Law’s eyes snapped open, fuck! He bit his lip, the sound of slow footsteps drawing closer to his hiding place. He felt his chest rise and fall from panic, but he forced his mind to remain calm. “Room,” he whispered and before the heels of the Rear Admiral’s stopped at the hallway where the surgeon was a matter of seconds ago.

* * *

_pop._

“Eh, what was that?”

“Beats me. A twig? Sounded like a twig.”

_pop._

“That ain’t a twig, dude…”

**P**

** O**

** P**

** !!**

“_The hell!?_” Shachi hollered at the top of his lungs, whipping around to see four of his mates on the ground, staring in shock at their catapult.

The catapult suddenly fired and hurled a huge boulder against the garrison walls, the stone crumbling and exploding into a bust of bright red flames that lit the night sky. The Heart Pirates were in a state of bewilderment, unsure of what caused the misfire and also the extra damage inflicted upon the base.

The ginger’s sunglasses slid down the length of his nose so his wide eyes were visible. “Bombs?!” He shouted. “He didn’t tell us they were bombs!”

Bombs were more effective than rocks would ever be, but the point of their job at the catapults was to help be a part of the distraction for the surgeon’s infiltration. They needed to support Douglass and his men while still remaining hidden in the treeline. Bombs would only focus all the Marines’ attention on the treeline rather than the Stallion Pirates that had yet to reach their position on the frontlines. The Marines were instantly trained onto forest and picked out the Heart Pirates easily due to the fire’s light reflecting off their white clothing. Then flocks of men in white and navy uniforms rushed to the treeline, trampling through the fields and trees with furious expressions and white knuckles wrapped around their rifles.

“Aim for the trees! Take down everything!”

Then the Marines on the garrison’s walls shifted their cannons onto the forest where the catapults were, firing at will. The Heart Pirates stumbled to avoid the cannonballs, the catapults turning into firewood and splinters, and bullets zoomed past their heads.

“To Flevance!” Shachi roared. “We need to get out of here!”

“But Captain!”

“We can’t leave him behind!”

“Leaving Captain behind is bad!”

“We’ll get him later!” Shachi shouted back, ignoring the soft mumble of I’m sorry behind him. “Capt—”

He was cut off by the sound of a girlish scream and the ginger’s attention whipped around. He cursed inwardly when he saw Ameria fall to the ground in a puddle of blood. She reached around, putting a hand to the white fabric of her left calf, but it was quickly pooling with the grimy red liquid. He ran to her and quickly scooped her up in his arms, but then he saw dozens of Marines pierce through the bushes and trees, charging at them. Then as swift as lightning, two white blurs and a large orange one knocked out half of the Marines that dared approached the ginger and wounded bone mage. Nigel, Penguin and Bepo were close together, all three men positioned and ready for a fight.

“Get her to Brodie!” Nigel called over his shoulder.  
Penguin held a thumbs-up high over his head. “We got your back!”

“For CAPTAIN!” Bepo shrieked and leapt forward with a battle cry as his wild kicks took out another five Marines in one fatal swoop.

Ameria gasped, trying desperately to say something, but her face was twisting in pain.

“Save your breath,” Shachi told her calmly. “Gettin’ you to Brodie in a jiffy.”

Ameria didn’t listen, and managed to scream: “_Duck!_” and her comrades listened, crouching down for cover as she swiped her glowing grey hand through the air. The dust from battle clumped together into cartilage and a mighty roar bellowed to the heavens as the bone mage’s skeletal dragon released a misty gas from his gullet. The grey film infected the Marines, turning their eyes into hollow voids as they went to their knees screaming in agony.

“Get…me…outta here…” Ameria struggled to breathe. “If I…pass out…Lavender will disappear…”

Shachi nodded firmly and quickly ran off to the submarine with his mates in tow while the regal animation shielded their escape.

* * *

The wind whispered through the trees, shaking the branches to collect a reward of leaves that danced off into the night before landing in the calm waters of the ocean. The tall grass waved with the breeze, making it almost visible to the naked eye. There was peace in the tiny untouched field, only the hum of battle in the far distance.

Then it was interrupted when a certain surgeon collapsed to the ground with an old wooden chest beside him.

The transparent blue sphere surrounding him disappeared as Law placed his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. That was a close one, he inwardly groaned as he stretched his back, hearing the kinks in his back crack in satisfaction. Then he took off his hat and wiped the back of his hand against his brow. He liked to take pride in the fact that he was usually the levelheaded type, though when it came to certain situations, he admittedly couldn’t remain as calm as he wanted. Then Law looked up at the starry night sky. Oh woe is me, he sighed, the life of a mere human.

He shook off the dreary thoughts and instead turned his attention to the chest. It was locked tight when he found it in the garrison’s vault. He would have checked it to make sure he got the artifact, but the Rear Admiral was breathing down his neck. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught by him. Law was in and then out like a bat out of hell as soon as he got the chest, thanks to the power of the Ope-Ope Devil Fruit. Now he just had to wait for his crew and the Stallions to arrive. Though, he would admit they seemed to be running a bit late.

He replaced his hat back atop his head and took a seat atop the chest, leaning his nodachi against the side and took a moment of respite to calm down. Then the sound of rough waves snapped him from his rest and he looked up, seeing the Stallion’s galleon appear around the bend. The mighty wooden horse figurehead was seemingly screaming like it was sprinting through the ocean.

Law’s brows furrowed in confusion when he realized that the Flevance was nowhere in sight. The galleon got closer, and the surgeon’s concern flipped to rage when he saw a row of rifles aimed at him.

“Greetings, Trafalgar!” The Charley Horse waved with a sickening smirk plastered on his lips. “Congrats on getting the treasure. Though, I’m afraid you can’t use it for a seat anymore.”

Law didn’t move an inch, and coldly questioned: “So this was your dirty little trick this time, huh? Where’s my crew, Mister McCoy?”

Charley Horse shrugged. “Not a clue. The Marines weren’t happy when they blew up their walls.”

Law’s glare narrowed, his steely eyes beaming with darkness. “Bombs?” He repeated. “I don’t think you mentioned that.”

“Oh, must have slipped my mind~”

“Apparently a lot of things slipped your mind, Mister McCoy.”

“What can I say?” Charley Horse chuckled with a bright expression that quickly warped to something darker has he whipped out a revolver. “A lot has changed in a year, Surgeon of Death” and he pulled the trigger with a wicked grin. “I don’t do cuts anymore.”

The muzzle flash signaled the Stallion Pirates to follow their captain and then they all fired, aimed to kill.

“_Room._”

The surgeon was showered in a rain of leaves while the trees behind him were riddled with holes.

Charley Horse’s eyes went wide, and his crew backed away from the railing when they saw the look in the surgeon’s steel eyes: death.

The leaves around the surgeon hovered in the transparent sphere that surrounded himself and the Stallion’s galleon. Law slowly stood up from the chest, grabbing his nodachi along the way. In return, he sent the rival captain his own warped smirk and he unsheathed his sword, the long blade gleaming dangerously in the moonlight.

“Remember all those tales I had to share?” A dark cackle escaped his lips as he mused: “Would you like to experience why I am a Supernova, Mister McCoy.”

* * *

There was silence in the control room, only the ringing of the den-den mushi dared utter a sound.

The submarine was stalling, sitting just a few miles from the island’s coast so the crew could receive some form of contact from the surgeon. So far, there had been nothing, and everyone was on edge. Cleon was violently pacing back and forth, his cheeks blistering red and his mustache prickly from silent rage. Bepo sat in the corner, his head hung in depression as a rain cloud stormed over his head. Jim, the submarine’s main pilot sat at his seat, his fingers twitching on the controls as he waited for orders to retrieve his captain while the sub-pilots, Andy and Charlie, hovered over their stations, ready to kick Flevance into gear.

Shachi sat at the table where Cleon and Bepo did most of the work on navigation, the ginger rubbing his temple in frustration as the den-den mushi went back to sleep for the third time. “No answer.”

“I knew it,” Cleon barked, still making a trench in the floor as he marched back and forth. “I knew it! This was stupid, idiotic and downright foolish! We should have never agreed to this raid.”

“Shut up, Cleon…” Shachi sighed, picking up the den-den mushi receiver again.

“This was the worst idea in the entire world! We just helped save Straw Hat, son of Dragon, rampager of the Grand Line, the storm trooper of Impel Down and the destroyer of Marine Ford!”

“Cleon, seriously, shut up.”

“Captain’s bounty went through the roof because of that—!”

“Cleon!” Shachi finally snapped, glaring at the navigator. “Shut the balls up!”

“_Yes, Mister Cleon, shut the balls up._”

Shachi’s furious expression dropped to a dumbfounded one, but then it lit up when he realized it was the snail that had spoken. “C—Captain!” He grinned. “Yo—”

“C—C—C—CAPTAIN!” The sobbing of a polar bear broke out from behind him, and Bepo clung to the ginger, giant tears pouring from his button eyes. “I—I—I AM SO SORRWY!”

“Bepo!” Shachi shouted, trying to shove the crying bear from his form. “Get off me!”

The den-den mushi chuckled lightly in the tone of the surgeon. “_It’s alright, Bepo, I’m fine. Anyway, Cleon,_” the snail’s eyes seemed to turn towards the navigator. “_Tell me Flevance’s general location from the island._”

“Two miles west,” Cleon huffed, the rough expression still on his feature, but it had lightened quite a bit.

“_Alright_,” –_click_, and then the den-den mushi went to sleep.

There was a moment of awkward silence until Jim turned around in his seat. “That means he wants us to pick him up, right?”

“No need,” the clear tone of their captain appeared once more, the surgeon appearing in a transparent blue sphere. He was sitting on a large wooden chest that thumped to the floor when the sphere was gone. “You should know that, Jim.”

“_Tch,_” Jim scoffed, biting the tip of the toothpick between his teeth in annoyance. “I don’t get to put Flevance at full speed all the time. I would have liked to do it again.”

“Sadly, you won’t get that chance,” Law stood up from the chest and then jerked his thumb towards it. “I need you to jimmy the lock, Jimmie.”

Jim’s brows furrowed, unamused. “Punny,” he snorted, but did as he was told. He walked over to the chest, kneeling down beside it and pulled out a set of lock-picking tools.

“Andy, you get us out of here,” Law then ordered. “We need to be out of these waters before the lovely Rear Admiral decides to track us down.”

The sub-pilot nodded, leaving his station to take over the reins as Jim worked away at the chest’s lock. The sirens signaling that the submarine was submerging went off, and soon the windows of the control room that framed the night sky outlined the dark sea. They were safe from the Marines, for now at least. Law’s attention then turned back to the chest, a grim smirk on his lips; at least he got something for his troubles.

Jim bit his lip in concentration, then with a satisfying click the lock was open. The main pilot smirked, placing firm hands on the lid and pushed it up to see the spoils, but his eyes widened with what he saw. There was no rare artifact, not even the shine of gold or glitter of gems. The contents of the chest were just old newspapers and metal nails and screws.

“What the hell?” Jim stuttered, baffled.

“I knew it wasn’t worth it,” Cleon grumbled.

“It was a trap…” Shachi murmured, a frown pulling at the corner of his lips. “Was everything we just did a fucking trap through and through?!”

“Heh,” Law laughed sullenly, an annoyed grin on his lips as placed a hand over his eyes and shook his head.

_That fucking lovely Rear Admiral_.

* * *

Brodie hummed a small tune as he washed his hands, scrubbing his pale skin with soap until his hands turned a light pink. The feeling of clean hands was always refreshing, especially after working on surgery. It had been awhile since he performed one on his own, but the captain had taught him well.

He glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes falling upon the three small cots lined along the wall, curtains hanging between each small bed. The curtains, a dull shade of light blue stood out among the dark metal pipes that ran up and down the walls, acting almost like bedposts. The curtains were usually drawn, but for privacy’s sake, he unraveled one to shield the resting bone mage from prying eyes that could walk in.

From where he stood in the sickbay, he could see her easily. She had a bit of a fever last time he thoroughly checked up on her, but the rhythmic rise and fall of the white blanket atop her signaled to him that she was fine. Though, anything could happen; he knew that. He frowned and shook the thought from his mind. She would be alright, he knew she would be.

_Creeeeak_, the heavy metal door to the sickbay opened, and the medical assistant was ready to whip around to tell that no-good-for-nothing-head-mechanic to leave, but his glare turned to a look of surprise. “Captain?” Brodie stuttered. “When did you get back?”

Law stepped into the room with Bepo in tow, the polar bear clutching the surgeon’s nodachi to his chest, and by the determined look in his beady black eyes it didn’t look like the bear was going to let go anytime soon. “A few minutes ago,” the surgeon answered, his eyes drifting to the curtain. “Shachi told me what happened. What’s her condition?”

Brodie sighed as he turned off the tap then grabbed a towel for his still damp hands. “It was a through and through,” the medical assistant explained while drying his hands. Slowly he walked over to the cot where the bone mage laid, his captain following while Bepo closed the door and then stood guard. “Didn’t hit the bone,” the medical assistant continued. “But the muscle of her calf is in tatters… It will heal, but it could be a month or two before she start walking properly again.”

“_Hmm,_” Law hovered over the bone mage, the bed just high enough so his fingers could grab a lock of her hair. “I can speed up the healing.”

Brodie frowned. “I know you can, but…” there was doubt in his voice. “It’s not always the safest bet.”

Law eyed the medical assistant. “I’m aware,” he noted the concern and his attention went back to the ebony strands between his forefinger and thumb. “There are risks, but this time I’ll go at a slower pace than last time. I want her on her feet by the time we reach Sabaody.”

Brodie nodded, but there was still a wary look in his eyes. Last time the surgeon had tried to speed up the healing process of a wound it ended up causing a bit of…trauma. “This could have all been avoided, you know.”

Law’s finger paused and he looked towards the medical assistant, a single eyebrow raised.

“You could have told Charley Horse no…”

Law frowned. “Don’t remind me. Cleon already gave me an earful.”

“Good,” Brodie huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You deserved it.”

Then the surgeon’s face went dark. “Careful, Mister Brodie.”

The medical assistant held up his hands. “Sorry, sorry,” he grinned. “At least we made it out okay. Ameria’s dragon really helped cover our asses.”

“I heard…” Law nodded, smirking softly. “She’s becoming a part of the team, that’s for sure.

* * *

The Rear Admiral observed the intriguing sight before him, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “He’s always been one for art, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Abigail?”

It was like an interactive abstract sculpture. The mighty galleon cut to pieces, rearranged and stacked upon one another. It screamed of pain, and quite literally. The former Stallions crew was cut to pieces and then reattached to the wood of their deformed ship. His men were having a blast taking apart all the pieces and trying to put them back together. The Rear Admiral could tell by the grim expressions when they were spit in the face or had their hands bitten by a Stallion Pirate.

“_Hmph!_” The ginger beside him huffed loudly, the annoyed expression turned away from the masterpiece. “It's a mess,” she grumbled. “That thing can’t possibly be considered art.”

The Rear Admiral chuckled lightly. “Well, at least we caught someone to blame for the mess that was formerly known as Red Wall.”

“That can be fixed,” the ginger snorted. “At least they didn’t get the artifact,” and she tugged at the neckline of her blouse, her fingers pulling at the golden chain that held a large ruby at the end.

“Good thing the men noticed the Heart Pirates…” the Rear Admiral trailed off. “If they hadn’t then Law would have gotten the prize.”

“_Hmph,_” she huffed again, and let go of the chain, the red ruby falling between her breasts.

“_Sir!_” A group of Marines dashed forward, all the men saluting their superiors before one stepped forward.

The lone marine had a deep frown on his lips, but a serious look in his dark eyes. A camera was around his neck, the bulky piece of machinery hanging at his chest. Then the marine handed the Rear Admiral a developed photograph.

Curious, the rear admiral took the photograph from the marine’s hand. He examined it, his eyes wide when he saw the young face that engulfed the image. “Bones…”


	4. Chapter 4

#  **Memory Lane**

Ameria hated this.

Loathed it.

She wanted to curl up in a ball, but it was impossible. She felt so vulnerable with the blankets pulled up to her hips, exposing both her legs. The bitterness of the sudden chill always grasped at her bare thighs, making her more self-conscious of the situation. She bit her lip, unable to ignore the feeling of his thumbs brushing constant circles on her skin. The sensation made her chest swell with anxiety.

She was forced to lay on her side and remain still as the surgeon used his powers to heal her leg. A tiny transparent sphere covered the small section of her flesh where the bullet wound was, his slender fingers working into the muscles to quicken the process of recovery. She could feel the growth, inch by inch. At the start of the sessions, it was only a minor throb in her calf, but as time went on, the feeling intensified to the point where it felt the inside of her leg was turning into a mass of needles. It multiplied, like a mountain range of pins were being pushed against her skin, and it felt like the thin layer of tissue would explode from the inside out.

She started to tremble, her hands clutching the blankets on the bed until all the blood drained from her knuckles.

"_Captain!_" The voice of the medical assistant barked. "_That's enough!_"

Law broke from his trance and ripped his fingers away from her leg, his hands going up in defense before the medical assistant could slap them away. The blue sphere around her calf vanished, but the maddening sensation of pins still remained at the core of her muscles.

"Don't overdo it," Brodie snapped, arms folded over his chest as he glared at the surgeon angrily. "You may be able to handle instant surgery on yourself, but you know others can't. You need to be more careful."

"I'm well aware of that, Mister Brodie," Law returned the glare. "The wound is almost healed. I thought I could get it done in this sitting."

Brodie tilted his head to the side, the motion making the surgeon glance towards the bone mage that struggled to sit upright in the cot, the poor girl not even daring to use her quivering leg for support. "Obviously not."

Law rolled his eyes. "She can't sit here forever doing nothing," the surgeon stood up abruptly from the stool at her bedside. "She needs to get back on her feet to do something."

Brodie frowned. "And here I thought patience was one of your good suits, Captain."

Law shot a scowl toward his medical assistant before he turned on his heel and stalked out of the sickbay, slamming the heavy metal door behind him.

"Grouchy," the medical assistant grumbled towards the door. Then he looked at the bone mage, his features lightening with an apologetic smile. "We're almost to Sabaody, so he might be pushing you a bit." Brodie scratched the side of his cheek sheepishly. "He wants you to be at the top of your game, everyone in fact. We will be in the New World before the week is closed."

Ameria nodded slowly, her lips pursed in a thin line.

Brodie sighed when she saw the worried crease forming along her brow and then he pat her head, ruffling her ebony locks. "He does it because he cares, not because he's cruel."

_Tell that to the papers_, she thought with a frown, _he's infamous for his cruelty_.

Brodie just chuckled as he turned on his heel and went back to his work. The bone mage was curious as she watched him open a large metal cabinet that housed various organs suspended in formaldehyde. She could have sworn the floating organs were still…alive, but before she could get the chance for a closer look, the medical assistant shut the cabinets after he pulled out a jar that held an oddly discolored liver. He placed the jar on top of the heavy metal desk that was on the other side of the room, then he sat down with a paper and pen at the ready.

Only the hurried scratching and the flipping of paper filled the space, and the subtle silence made Ameria lean back against the propped pillow and close her eyes, but then a slight tug came to the long sleeve of her shirt.

Looking down, she saw her familiars peek out from underneath the blankets. Tanker eyed the room warily, all four of his boney hands holding the covers up so only his eyes sockets were visible. Shnell crawled out from under the blankets, his small frame stumbling over the wrinkles in the fabric and he tumbled across her lap. The impact caused his over-sized jaw to come loose, but the bone mage—used to the scenario—held out a hand and the jaw plopped onto her palm before it could even think about touching the floor.

_Flop_, her eyes furrowed when she heard something else fall onto the covers. She looked down to see that her small familiar had struggled to catch something that had fallen from his tattered cloak.

She plucked the piece of gold from her small familiar's tiny hands. The gilded metal fit comfortably against her palm, the surface carved with tiny details of perfect swirls and dots and the pad of her thumb brushed over every little groove. She had discovered it on Jaya while she was with Zoro and Robin, but she had gotten separated from the two and went through a little nightmare to get the tiny fragmented piece of metal. It was chipped around one edge, the metal just one part of a larger piece. A piece that belonged to her master's mask.

Her vision started to blur, reality melting away and transferring her back in time…

…_to the distant memories that the mask fragment always brought her back to._

_She remembered the cool feeling of icy tiles against the soles of her bare feet as she sped through the wide hallways, the smothering breeze constricting her within a cocoon of muggy humidity. The cotton fabric of her pretty blue nightgown clung to her skin, and her short ebony locks were knotty and frizzy._

_Summer ran extremely late that year; she remembered the troops were concerned that the local crops would be killed by a sudden winter frost because nature decided to skip Autumn. She didn't care about such things because they appeared trivial in the wake of her sixth birthday: the year she officially began training as a necromancer._

_She was on the hunt for her new teacher, desperately searching for him within the mighty walls of the grand fortress._

_When she finally found the familiar brown cloak strolling down the courtyard hallway, she was in tears._

_Her teacher stood there silently, a hollow expression carved into the ornate mask covering his features._

_"I—I'm sorry, Uncle—" She sobbed, wiping away the large tears rolling down her rosy cheeks and tiny chin. "I d-d-didn't mean to—"_

_There was another moment of silence from her teacher as he rolled up the long sleeves of his cloak and removed his hood that covered his short brown hair. He then sighed and crouched down in front of her, placing a large hand on her head. "Remember what your mother told you. You can't call me 'Uncle' anymore. I am your teacher. You have to call me 'Master Aichki' as tradition. So, wipe away your tears. You are my apprentice now."_

_"I—I am…" she hiccuped, hurrying to remove the tears that stained her skin._

_"Right…" Aichki replied, awkwardly patting her head._

_Then he swiftly stood up, taking a tiny step back as he glanced down one end of the hall and then the other. The cool breeze from the open windows filtered through the hall, echoing lightly against the walls. Aichki quickly hooked his hands under her arms, lifting her up and carrying her away._

_She felt a wave of warmth as she sniffled, resting her cheek against his shoulder as he walked briskly to the garrison library._

_The heavy door was opened just a crack, and the wood creaked loudly before there was a tiny mechanical click. Aichki flinched when he heard the clang of metal above his head, but the only thing that fell upon his head was a storm of colorful flurries. The library instantly turned into a papier-mâché party as confetti rained from the ceiling. Three large buckets were rigged with an elaborate pulley system to rain down a sea of multicolored paper when the door was opened, and covered the tiny library's tiled floor._

_Aichki let out a heavy sigh, but Ameria giggled in enthusiasm._

_"What a mess…" Aichki grumbled, wading through the confetti that came up to his ankle. "One of Phineas's pranks no doubt…"_

_The bright grin on her lips fell to an uneasy frown and her tiny hands clung to his shoulder, her trembling knuckles white against the brown fabric._

_Aichki pat her back and then gingerly placed her on the floor, holding her hand to guide her through the shallow puddle of confetti that shifted between their footsteps. "I'll have to tell your parents later… I am sure your father will make him clean it."_

_The library was a small room, so the confetti covered every square inch. The sturdy wooden shelves were littered with tiny pieces of rectangular paper, and Aichki wiped away the confetti from the small circular table in the middle of the room. Then he helped Ameria onto one of the chairs before turning to the many shelves, pulling out a thick leather bound book._

_He straightened his posture and cleared his throat. "Now, child," his voice reverberated with firmness as he pivoted on his heel and opened the book. "First, let's review some history…" and he placed the book on the table, flipping through the worn, yellow pages._

_Ameria slouched in her seat, pouting at the comment._

_"You need to learn this history before we even start practicing magic," Aichki explained calmly, sitting down on a chair across from her. "History is important to know, especially when we have to learn from previous mistakes. Responsibility and caution are very important for any mage."_

_Ameria eyes drooped, and her head leaned to the side, resting on her shoulder._

_"Never misuse your magic," he told her sternly. "History has proven that mages who desire more power than they can handle will cause havoc and chaos. Our country is in turmoil because of a single man that made a deal with the devil."_

_Ameria closed her eyes and exhaled sharply._

_"Magic is a gift, a powerful tool," he continued. "But it should never be used for show, especially in the Outside World. The nobility of this world is not always strong, honorable leaders. They are greedy and violent, which has led to—"_

_Aichki continued the lecture, but it took awhile before he noticed Ameria had clocked out. The blank expression of his golden mask seemed to stare at her in disappointment. He sighed, closing the book on the table, which startled Ameria awake._

_"I think that's enough history for today," and he got up to put the book away. Then he looked back to the little child wiping sand from her eyes. "Come along now, we need to start gathering some tools and ingredients."_

_Ameria looked up at him, puzzled, and she sleepily asked: "Ingredients? Ingredients for treats, Uncle?"_

_Aichki down looked at her. Then he threw back his head, his hands on his stomach and the amulet around his neck danced with his laughter. "No, no, no," he chuckled and shook his head. "We need the ingredients for a spell…can't do magic without a familiar, now can you.?"_

_Ameria weary demeanor disappeared, gasping in delight, and she leapt off her chair and raced through the confetti and out the door._

_"Wait, Meri—!" Aichki called out for her, chasing after her. "You don't even know—"_

_"Bones!" Ameria shouted, stopping briefly to look back at him with a grin, and her feet bounced eagerly against the tiled floor. "Chicken Bones!"_

_Then she bounded away with a bright grin on her lips…_

…which left Ameria smiling fondly at the memories that flooded back when she held the fragment in her hands.

Then she frowned and clutched the golden piece in her hands.

**B-A-N-G**

The sound of the sickbay's door slamming against the wall startled her, and the medical assistant, too. Brodie, who had his nose buried in his notes snapped his head up and prepared a scornful glare, but his eyes opened wide when he saw who it was.

It was the captain of the Flevance, the surgeon carrying an odd array of items. Tucked under his arm was three heavy textbooks that looked worn to the core and in the other he held—weirdly enough—an orange plastic bucket. Law strolled into the room, dropping the books carelessly onto her lap, making her squeal in surprise as she hurriedly lifted Shnell above her head so he wouldn't get crushed. Then the surgeon threw the bucket at her, making the bone mage drop her small familiar on her head as she scrambled to catch the object thrown ungracefully towards her.

Her brows furrowed in confusion as she looked in the bucket, seeing a collection of dust bunnies that must have been swept from the deepest, most untouched corner of the submarine.

Law then plopped back down on the stool beside her cot. He placed his right calf atop his left thigh, balancing it so his elbow had a solid place to rest while his hand cradled his cheek. "I found something to keep you productive for the next few days," he purred silkily with a smirk on his lips; he looked like a Cheshire cat with a devious plan in mind.

Ameria eyed him warily, but then turned her attention towards the books clustered on her lap. She picked one up, the palm of her hand brushing against the green velvet cover as she read the title aloud. "The Memoirs of Bones by the Tulip?"

"_Oooh!_" Brodie gasped, giddy with excitement. "That's an excellent text on skeletal structure. Tulip really knows her way with words; it's like you're not even reading a textbook but a novel!"

Ameria frowned and thought, _that's probably why it has a cheesy-ass name_.

"It should be easy for you to understand, Miss Bones," Law mused, his fingertips drumming against his cheeks. "After what I saw on Amazon Lily, I have noted that you need much practice on the skeletal systems of all animals, ranging from humans to beasts. Lucky for you, I so happen to be an expert in all of them, including some of the mythical types."

Her frown deepened and she slouched against her pillow. She had a feeling that the surgeon was going to be a horrible teacher. She was used to long lectures and practice, but she was not used a drill sergeant's regime. She was put through an uncomfortable recovery plan and forced to practice under the surgeon's strict guidance. Ameria loathed the recovery process, but she hated the lessons even more. It was torturous for both of them. It was an endless cycle. Ameria would try her best, but Law would be unimpressed. He would force her to try again, and she would stubbornly try again with worse results. He knew she was producing lackluster animations on purpose, which was true. He would get more annoyed, and she would act more childish. It went on for three days until she was free.

Until she was _finally_ free.

No more groping or educating from the surgeon because she was finally _free_.

She leapt from the cot, looking down at her wiggling toes with a grin. Her leg no longer felt prickly and there wasn't even a scar on her skin, like she hadn't had a bullet go through it in the first place. It was a rare occurrence not to have a scar from one of her many injuries.

"Careful." Brodie warned. "You went through an unnaturally quick recovery process and you haven't walked in a few days so your legs might have—"

Before the medical assistant could even finish, the bone mage took one step only to crumble. Luckily, Bepo was there to catch her in his wide fuzzy arms.

"—atrophied…"

Ameria sighed as she used the polar bear's arm for support. She should have known the obvious.

"_Anyway,_" Brodie cleared his throat, his attention turning to the items tucked under his arms and he handed her the folded white pile. "Here are your clothes. You can pull the curtain and get dressed…and uh," he scratched the side of his cheek sheepishly. "I won't look. Sorry that there isn't more privacy in here."

Ameria shrugged it off; she assumed that the medical assistant was more mature than the rest of the crew. Plus, he had already stripped her down once considering after she woke up in the sickbay she was wearing only an over-sized medical gown and her underwear.

Brodie did as he said he would and turned around, his attention focused on the clipboard in his hand and the open cabinets he was searching through. He was going through what remained in the sickbay, seeing what they were missing and what needed to be restocked since they docked at Sabaody.

The bone mage pulled at the curtain, cutting the polar bear from view and then she shed the medical gown from her skin. She tried to ignore the cold biting her exposed skin and quickly hopped into her white jeans. But before she could even button them, the door suddenly burst open.

"Got a problem, Brodie!" The voice belonged to Penguin. "Ginger and Blondie got in a fight…_again!_"

"This asshole started it!"

"You think I was gonna let you sit there can call me fat?! I don't think so, _hobo!_"

"_Oi!_ Don't call me that, _fatty!_"

Ameria froze, her arms instantly covering her exposed chest. Her nails dug into the skin of her upper arms, and she just stood there like a helpless deer at the end of her father's arrow. She had no time to scurry for her bra unless she wanted to take the risk of flashing the three mechanics that marched into the room.

Penguin supported Shachi, the ginger's arm over his mate's shoulder as he clutched the side of his head, blood trickling down his temple. Nigel sulked behind them, the blonde mechanic's lip completely swollen, the skin around it discolored with the shades of red and purple. Brodie used his clipboard to hide his mouth from the mechanics, but the bone mage could see him mouthing the words _fuckfuckfuckfuck_ over and over again. The medical assistant dared not look her direction, but his silence and the sweat on his brow drew suspicion.

Suddenly something got their attention, that something being the polar bear that was probably staring at her from the other side of the curtain. Their eyes never landed on the bear, instead they fell upon her.

Penguin's and Shachi's faces lit up like they were children looking up at a Christmas tree; giddy expressions that were red to the core. Shachi even got a nosebleed to mix with the blood dripping down from his head wound. Brodie looked down at his feet guiltily and Nigel quickly turned his head away, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"_Holy titties…_" Penguin murmured with glee. "Them be boobies…" and he started swaying where he stood and the movement causing the ginger to follow, the two head mechanics looking like they were drunk.

Ameria finally snapped from her daze. The whiteness in her cheeks bristled to a scornful crimson that stained her entire face, and steam poured from her ears. She snatched up the pillow from the cot next to her—one arm still covering her exposure—and she threw it at the head mechanic that _dared to say_ such a thing. But her aim was off and she instead hit the blonde mechanic in the back of the head.

Nigel flinched and then whipped around with a hiss that sounded like a cat that just had its tail stepped on. "_Da fuck!?_ I wasn't even looking!"

"You are now!" the bone mage snapped back, hugged her arms tightly to her chest as her shoulders hunched forward to try and further block the view.

Nigel scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at her. "Like I wanna look at that flat chest of yours!"

"She ain't a washboard!" Shachi barked. "She's a—!"

The bone mage cut him off by throwing the next possible thing she could grab: her boot. The sole left an imprint on the ginger's face, and also broke the tinted glass of his shades. "_Perverts!_" She roared, her pitch high and shrill. Then she held out her free hand, her palm gathering with grey magic that transformed into the image of a haunting skull that laughed maniacally. "_You're all perverts!_"

"What is going on here?"

A new voice entered the mix and then the surgeon appeared, an annoyed expression on his features. He stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed and he scanned the situation, his hard glare never letting up. Though, his gaze lingered on her, not because she was topless, but because she was threatening another ward attack. She looked away with a scoff, closing her fist so the grey skull disappeared.

Then he turned to his men, dark shadow under the brim of his hat, and he coldly ordered: "_Out._"

The tone sent chills down the spine, a tone that demanded not a soul to disobey the command, and that, no one did.

But then he grabbed the bone mage by her bare shoulder. "Stay," he told her calmly before she followed his orders not meant for her and he gently pushed her back behind the curtain. Then he turned away, disappearing out of sight. The sickbay's door creaked close, the sound of his footsteps absorbed into the metal.

Ameria quickly put on the rest of her clothing with rosy cheeks, and wanted to remain in the corner of the infirmary for the rest of her life. She believed that the surgeon would let her only hide out for the rest of the day before he kicked her out, feeding her emotions to the wolves. With a deep breath, she slowly opened the metal door a crack and peeked outside to see who was there, but it was only Bepo. A heavy weight was lifted off her shoulders when she was faced with the only male that probably didn't quite _understand_ her outburst due to embarrassment. It made it less awkward for her in the end.

The polar bear just blinked at her with his little button eyes. "Captain told me to watch over you," He huffed, puffing out his chest. "This is my duty as first-mate to make sure the underlings are kept safe," and before she could get a word in, the polar bear turned on the heel of his boot and started to march away while ordering: "Now follow me!"

The last thing Ameria wanted to do was follow Bepo to the deck where all the men were, but she also didn't want to spoil the poor bear's thrill of being in charge. Bepo looked genuinely happy when he got to order the crew around even though some of the men didn't take him seriously, which would break the poor bear's heart. So, in the end, she fell in line with the polar bear's step.

When she walked on deck, she instantly regretted her decision.

There was tension in the air. The awkwardness clung to her, and only her. She saw the sly glances as the crew tried to act like they weren't gossiping. She knew boys; the head mechanics were probably bragging to the_ entire_ island by now. The heaviness that loomed over her head went unnoticed by the polar bear and he continued on with his long strides. The bone mage scuffled her feet against the wooden boards of the deck, hurrying to hide behind his large form to avoid the pointed looks. Sadly, she could still hear the snickers; it was like they were looking through her clothing.

"I'm watching her," Bepo suddenly spoke up, the polar bear's heels clicking together as he saluted his captain. "Just like you ordered."

Law looked away from the clipboard in his hand, a small smirk on his lips. "Good work," He told his first mate as he leaned against the railing of the submarine. The polar bear beamed proudly at his captain's compliment, but the surgeon's focus turned to the bone mage. His somewhat warm expression melted away to something more serious. "Go find Nigel and Sam. You and Bepo shall be accompanying them into town for a few supplies, such as a new bed for your room, etcetera."

Ameria nodded, accepting the piece of paper that the surgeon extended towards her.

"Here's the address," he continued. "Cleon and I went earlier when we arrived, but the shop's owner prefers not to be seen doing business with pirates during normal hours. He said to come back before the shop closes at eight. So hurry, he isn't going to wait. And please," he added one more little thing. "Make sure you relay all this to Nigel and Sam."

Ameria simply nodded again, but the action was suddenly stopped when something was pulled over her head. Confused, she pulled the item off, see it was a wool laplander. Her fingers rubbed against the thick wool dyed a dark shade of green and she eyed the white patch on the front that said the word _DOC_ in black thread. Then the hat was ripped from her hands and shoved back on her head.

"The hat will make it easy to find you," it was the medical assistant. "Just in case you get lost in the crowds."

"Good thinking, Brodie." Law smirked, but then he got back on track. "Also, we're leaving as soon as you all get back."

Bepo's ears perked up, and he blinked in confusion. "I thought we weren't leaving until tomorrow, Captain?"

Law pursed his lips before answering carefully. "I think it would be wise if we stayed on the move for awhile. I heard the Marines patrols are rather heavy at night…"

Bepo nodded with another serious look and then he left to find the two mechanics with the bone mage in tow. The men warned Ameria to stay close and to keep her head down since they were on the border of the lawful and lawless zones, both areas equally dangerous for unprepared pirates. However, the island of Sabody had recovered quickly from the many battles against the Marines and the twelve Supernovas only a few weeks ago. The city was rebuilt and bustling with activity. The colorful crowd of citizens roamed the streets in hoards, women carrying baskets of food while men hauled large wooden to the center of town. It seemed peaceful enough, which gave Ameria the sudden urge to go see Shakki, who she met when she arrived with the Straw Hats not too long ago. The barkeep seemed to know a little bit about everything, she even knew more information about the bone mage's homeland than the average person should know, which was usually none.

"_C'mon, brat!_" Nigel barked, snapping her back to her senses.

"Aw, come on, Nigel." Sam shook his head, and his maroon curls that peeked out from beneath his black beanie swayed with the motion. A disappointed frown pulled at the corner of his pale lips, but there was an amused glint in his hazel eyes. "Be nicer to the gal, she's probably having bit of déjà vu."

Ameria pursed her lips, her brows furrowed in thought. _Déjà vu?_ Could she really call her sudden urges déjà vu? She crossed her arms and looked to the sky, pondering the thought. The bubbles of the island slowly rose to the treetops before popping, but then something caught her attention. She knew this grove. It was where The Rip off Bar was located. Forget déjà vu, it was more like _nostalgia_, especially since she spotted the bar perched atop the hill when she looked around. The tiny building was nestled between the massive tree roots, and it was so close she could smell the lavender tea.

"Le's go," Nigel clicked his tongue, the polar bear and fellow mechanic following suit when the blonde started to walk away.

Ameria took a step forward, prepared to be a responsible girl and listen to the surgeon's orders, but she paused. This could possibly be her last chance to hear anything about the Straw Hats. They would be off training in seclusion for two years while she would be on her own boilersuits of the Heart Pirates vanished in the crowds, and the three hadn't picked up on her absence just yet.

_Only a brief chat_, she thought to herself as she dashed up the stairs to the bar, _then I'll catch up_. At the entrance, she slowly opened the door and peeked inside, calling out: "Hello?"

The well-kept bar was filled with light coming through the windows, the wooden floors almost sparkling in the sunlight. There were only a few people there: a group of men shoulder to shoulder around a small table close to the fire and then a lone man sitting by himself with a cup of tea and newspaper in hand.

"Well, well, well."

Ameria heard the familiar tone draw out smoothly as she opened the door fully. It was Shakki, the barkeep wiping down the counters with a red rag.

"If it isn't Ameria," she continued, glancing toward the door with a small grin on her lips.

Ameria waved at the older woman and then walked in, mentally noting that a few men at the table by the fire had eyed her warily. She shrugged off the stares as she slipped into one of the stools at the bar. "It's good to see a friendly face again," she said as the barkeep placed a porcelain teacup in front of her. The bone mage removed the cup from its saucer, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender.

"I could say the same thing, Hun." Shakki smiled back, placing her cigarette between her middle and forefinger and a small puff of nicotine fluttered past her red lips. "Been lonely without Ray pestering me for a free drink. In any case," the barkeep leaned forward, resting her elbow against the counter. She waved the cigarette gently, a small trail of smoke dancing back and forth in its wake. There was an amused twinkle in her large eyes, a curious smirk on her lips. Then she asked: "How's life with the Heart Pirates?"

Ameria froze midway through taking a sip of her tea and slowly she placed the cup back on its saucer. "H—How did you know that?"

Shakki reached under the bar, pulling out the daily newspaper. "Because of _this_," and she flipped through the pages to show the bone mage two wanted posters.

The first was the familiar picture of the surgeon, the man she now called captain. It was a close up of his facial features: he was smirking cockily as he glanced over his shoulder at an inferno behind him. At the bottom of the page was his name in large red letters, and below that in smaller print was the crew he commanded and also his bounty. Or rather, new bounty. His former bounty of 200 million beli had been raised to 320 million.

Unsurprising, but the second one was. The other poster was of her. It was a new picture of when she was at Red Wall. The Marines must have caught a glimpse of her through the trees during the battle. She was looking straight ahead, her brows furrowed in confusion and fear from the glow that belonged to the blaze that had engulfed the Marine base. At the bottom it said her epithet, _Bones—Wanted Alive_ in bold black print, and below that it read that she was a member of the Heart Pirates and her old bounty of 60 million was now a whopping 120 million.

"_Oh crap…_" she ripped the paper from the barkeep's hands, her brow furrowed in frustration. It was already bad enough that she got photo-captured by the Marines once, but now it was twice. She had an inkling why her bounty doubled in price, but she did not want to go down that road.

"Why'd you join up with his crew?" Shakki then asked, a curious quirk to her lips as she teased the bone mage. "Is it because of his handsome looks?"

Ameria laughed, but the humor died short. "No, it was just something I had to do. I'm on a mission and I can't wait for the others."

"Really?" A single eyebrow raised as the barkeep eyed the bone mage. "So what happens in two years when everyone sees you're not coming back?"

"I think they know _that_ already." Ameria tossed the wanted poster on the counter, her image covering that of the surgeon. "Luffy will explain it to them though."

"Your cook friend will be terribly upset." Shakki mused. "He'll think the Trafalgar boy kidnapped you."

"He practically did," Ameria grumbled. "His accomplice: the Dolt Luffy. He pushed me outta the nest, telling me: _fly, my pretty, fly_."

Shakki chuckled, a curious twinkle in her dark eyes. "At least you weren't kidnapped. You'll have more freedom that way."

Ameria pursed her lips, her cheeks turning a light shade than the normal hue. "Yeah… About that…"

Ameria might have had more freedom than the normal kidnappee, but she was well aware she just did something to revoke her freedoms, especially when the men that would report her misconduct were a few blocks over, still unaware due to the dense crowds. They believed she had been holding her tongue due to embarrassment, which is why they didn't question the abnormal silence. The two mechanics and bear strolled out from the alleyway, glancing to the side to see the owner cursing as he dug through the pocket of his apron. The old man then pulled out a key, locking the door to his business, officially closing up for the night. Then he trotted away to the town center with the brim of his cap between his teeth so he could hurriedly put on his jacket.

Just like the owner, the little store was quite strange. It had a little bit of everything inside rather than specializing in one craft. However, the three noticed that the items were cheap. The pirates probably couldn't say anything good about the quality of the things the surgeon had ordered in that case. Though, their captain had a taste for quality, so if anything, it was probably the penny-pincher with him at the time that decided it was the—_ahem_—best.

The polar bear easily carried a large crate that was labeled _BED_ in bold black letters, the narrow wooden box easily tucked under his arm. On the other hand, Sam struggled to carry a crate labeled _DESK_, despite it being considerably smaller than what the polar bear was carrying. The poor mechanic was short and could barely see where he was going, making his pace slow so he could avoid getting tripped.

Nigel suddenly stopped and then turned on his heel, scowling at his fellow mechanic. "Hurry up, Sam!" He barked the order. "God, why're you so fucking slow, _huh?_"

Sam stopped, tilting his chin up so he could glare over the crate. "Maybe if you'd help me, asshole, I'd go faster."

"_Nah,_" Nigel bluntly declined and waved the simple plastic bag in his hand, the pink box inside shaking with the motion. "I got my load. Ask the brat—" He bit his tongue, swallowing his words. The streets had thinned due to the late hour and he could finally see that she was nowhere in sight. "**Bepo!**" Nigel roared. "You were supposed to watch her, you stupid bear!"

Bepo lost his grip on the crate and it tumbled to the ground. He hung his head, a rain clouding suddenly over his head. "_I'm sorry…_"

Nigel slapped his hand to his forehead, his fingers pulling at his skin as his palm slid down the side of his face. Then with a growl, he threw the bag he was carrying in Sam's direction. The short mechanic tumbled forward from the unbalanced weight when the bag landed on top of the crate. Nigel ignored the curses from behind him as he dashed away, his mind filled with the idea that the bone mage _ran away_.

She was an escapee now, and he had to go to the last place he saw her: the déjà vu grove.

Nigel looked through all the shop windows, but every one of them were closing for the night, owners and customers traveling to the roaring city center. The blonde mechanic felt like he was going to lose his mind; he didn't want to think about what his captain was going to do when he found out. Nigel clutched his head, trying to squeeze the ideas out of his brain, but there was nothing. He thought all hope was lost, but then he noticed a little bar atop a hill, the last place in the area he had yet to check.

Nigel ran up the stairs, rushed to the door and ungracefully opened said door with the heel of his boot, the glorious sight of fireworks in the background announcing his entrance.

The bar was filled with men having drinks after a long day of work, and he witnessed a small frame of time where there was a mix of chaos. Then everything went silent save for the door that swung from its loose hinges. The blonde mechanic cast aside the aggressive glares he received, his cheeks blistering red when he saw that familiar speck of green.

"**OI!**"

Ameria was slouched in her seat, and she was the only one in the bar that chose not to look at the doorway.

Nigel stormed over to her, weaving around the filled tables until he towered menacingly over her. "_What the hell is wrong with you?!_"

The man who was sitting beside the bone mage tried to defend her, but the blonde mechanic was not in the mood. His knuckles collided with the foreigner's nose, making the message clear, and it seemed to amuse the bartender as she chuckled with a sly grin when her patron tumbled from his stool out cold.

"_Don't run off like that!_" Nigel continued his rant. "_You had orders! ORDERS! You're supposed to follow them! Do you not understand that?!_"

Ameria remained silent and still refused to look at him.

Nigel snapped, steam pouring from his ears. He was at his wit's end. He slapped his hands to her waist and then threw her over his shoulder. He sent a wicked a glare to all those that were staring and then he marched out of the bar without a word.

* * *

Bepo sat at his captain's feet, his furry head hanging low. The bear lost in a sea of depression. Law crossed his arms in disappointment and he eyed the pitiful appearance of his first mate, nudging the polar bear with the tip of his boot. Bepo tumbled over, a few small tears dripping down his fuzzy cheeks to the ground.

Shachi then walked over to the surgeon and bluntly stated: "You picked the wrong guy to be your first-mate."

Bepo snapped back to his senses, leaping to his feet and growled at the ginger viciously, baring his sharp teeth. The polar towered over the mechanic, a dark shadow framing his button eyes that looked like hollow white holes.

It didn't faze the ginger. "I feel ashamed to be a member of this crew sometimes because of that stupid bear."

The bear head's dropped. "_I'm sorry…_"

The ginger motioned a hand towards the polar bear. "Point proven."

Law just rolled his eyes.

"_Captain! I got the runaway!_"

Law's attention followed the voice of the mechanic that returned from his hunt, though the surgeon was rather surprised at what came his way. The blonde mechanic had Ameria thrown over his shoulder, and she was oddly quiet. Nigel's cheeks were still glowing red from rage, and then the blonde mechanic pushed the bone mage from his shoulder and he threw her to the ground.

She crumbled at Law's feet like a ragdoll.

Not a squeak was heard, only the hard _thud_ of her body hitting the ground. Then she curled into a tight ball, trembling uncontrollably.

_Whoosh~_

Silence.

Shachi broke from his trance, snapping a scornful glower towards Nigel. "What did you do!?"

Nigel still had his arms stretched out, rapidly blinking his blue eyes. "Honestly, I have no idea," he admitted. "I didn't think that was gonna happen."

Law crouched down to inspect the bone mage, tuning out the argument between the mechanics. He tried to move her head, but her muscles were locked into place, making her as stiff as a board. He pursed his lips, snaking his fingers between her shoulder and neck. His middle and forefingers moved along her soft skin in hopes of checking her pulse. The speed was abnormal, rapidly pounding against the pads of his fingers. That could only mean one thing.

"_Shachi,_" his cold voice was a knife that cut their bickering in half. "Take her to her room and please," he stressed the word. "Be _careful._"

The head mechanic nodded quietly did as he was told while Law quickly ordered his crew to load up and head out. Under the cover of night, the submarine easily went unnoticed by the heavy Marines fleet that patrolled bay when they got wind that the Heart Pirates were in the area. When the crew was in the clear, Law made his way to the bone mage's room.

He opened the door, pleased to see that Sam was able to assemble the desk and bed in time. The desk was pushed against the left wall, the textbooks he had lent the bone mage sitting on top. Then the bed was tucked away in the corner of the opposite wall, and a spare chest was placed at the foot. And in the bed was the bone mage herself, curled up under the covers.

His footsteps were light as he crossed the way, and he sat down on the edge of her bed. "Miss Bones," he shook her shoulder.

Her eyelids fluttered open slowly, her brows furrowed.

"I know you're resting, but there are a few things I need to say." Law told her calmly. "I don't know when I'll have free time to talk to you again. _Privately._"

She sat up, the crease on her brow growing with confusion.

"I bought the things you will need for your menstrual cycle." He told her casually.

Her eyes opened wide and she leaned away from him, her cheeks turning a shade of light pink. "Is…that all you wanted to tell me?"

"No," Law shook his head. "I would like to discuss your…fear."

She froze, her head mechanically dropping and she stared at her lap. She clenched her blankets tightly, wringing the fabric in her grasp. "I—I—" She stuttered. "I d—don't like…_fireworks_."

Law eyed her curiously, his hand reaching out to touch her chin. "_Fireworks?_" He whispered, his fingers lifting her head so she looked him in the eye. "Why _fireworks?_"

Ameria leaned away from his gentle touch and she looked away, hugging her arms until her knuckles turned white. "…"

Law pursed his lips in thought. "I see," he drew out slowly. "This won't affect you in battle with…_explosives_, correct?"

Ameria shook her head. "...I can tell the difference," she murmured, and she closed her eyes. "I can tell."

Law nodded, a serious look in his eyes. He believed her statement. He had seen her in the heat of battle with cannons and gunfire and she didn't have this reaction. While he was morbidly curious, he could tell she didn't want to go down memory lane for someone like him.


	5. Chapter 5

#  **New World**

Ameria leaned forward in the pilot's seat of the submarine. Her palms were pressed together tightly, her forefingers snug against her smiling lips. She observed the machinery before her wandering eyes, the constant blinking of lights made the curious expression on her features glow neon green. The loud _ding_ of the radar went off to the side of the wheel, the sweep picking up on something big when the line crossed the top of the black screen. The bone mage looked away from the radar and out the thick glass windows. The sun had just peeked its head of the horizon, the rolling waves blazed a vibrant orange and red as if the sea was on fire from the intense rays. The light cast away the shadows of night, revealing the monstrous mountain range known as the Red Line.

"Whatcha doing?"

Her shoulders jolted at the voice behind her and snapped her head back, looking up at the submarine's main pilot's upside down features. Jim rested his hands on the back of his chair, the one she was currently occupying, and he stared at her. The extra fabric of his burgundy beanie dangled over the bushy brown bangs that peeked out to usually cover his eyes. But with his head tilted down, the bone mage saw his violet irises gleam with interest.

"She was curious," the voice of their captain spoke up.

Jim straightened his posture, looking over his shoulder while the bone mage changed her position in the chair and peered around the edge. Though, her focus was distracted when her eyes followed the two sub-pilots walking to their respective seats. Andy took his right hand spot beside Jim, artillery technician turning around his green baseball cap so the bone mage could see the blue words _North Blue_. Then Charlie went to the left, the maintenance technician tipping the orange brim of his yellow mushroom cap to her before he took a seat.

Once the sub-pilots were settled in, the bone mage's attention turned to the second landing of the control room where the voice of the surgeon had come from.

There was a railing that sectioned off a part of the landing, despite the fact that the height difference was only half a foot. The bars were thick, the metal wore on the sections that experienced years of hands constantly touching it, and a large wooden table was pressed against them. Three matching chairs were tucked around the free sections, Cleon sitting in one of them beside the captain. The navigator leaned over the table so his nose nearly touched the notebook he was scribbling away in. Then there was Law, the surgeon flipping through a stack of old papers that looked to be sea charts.

"I said she could look," the surgeon continued. "But if she touched anything she'd lose her hands." Then he glanced up from the charts, motioning two fingers towards the bone mage.

Ameria followed the surgeon's silent order and twirled out of the seat so that Jim could take his rightful place at the helm. The main pilot lightly clapped for her as he sat down, whispering that she was finally getting a hang of following Captain's orders. She gave him a halfhearted glare before standing behind the chair. She rested her hands on the thick red cushions, and leaned over to continue observing the machinery.

"Miss Bones." Law called out to her. "Don't be a nuisance. I'm sure you have other things to do since you were in the sickbay for a week."

Ameria didn't bother to look at him, and _a-matter-of-factly_ stated: "I finished everything already."

"Oh really?" Law mused. "Do tell."

"Yup," the bone mage chirped, letting go of Jim's chair and she started to count away on her fingers. "All boilersuits that were stained with oil have been bleached in the appropriate places, washed, folded and then placed in the proper rooms. All dirty towels have been cleaned, are hanging in the correct bathroom by color because of Cleon's OCD, and all spares have been placed in the storage room on Floor B. All of Sal's aprons were hand-washed and air dried because he swears that the machines are _out ta eat 'em by ta thread_. Also, I washed Cleon's comforters with the detergent he requested because he's allergic to the commercial brand kind."

"Finally, someone who listens!" Cleon lifted his hands in praise.

Law propped his elbow up and cradled his cheek in his hand, a smirk on his lips. "Good, Miss Bones, but what about—"

"In your quarters; the basket is on the bed," the bone mage replied, a triumphant grin on her lips.

"Excellent, now make me a sandwich."

Ameria whipped around, finally facing her captain with a furious scowl that caused her cheeks to bloom a flustered shade of red.

The smirk on his lips remained, widened even. "Well hop to it," he teased. "And hold the bread."

"That sounds dumb," Ameria was blunt.

"What?" Law smirked, eyeing her curiously. "You never heard of a lettuce wrap?"

Ameria rolled her eyes and looked away.

Law merely chuckled, but then he turned to Charlie and ordered: "It's time."

Charlie nodded with a grin and quickly flipped a bright red switch on his dashboard.

* * *

Nigel let out a growl of frustration and rammed his boot into the metal side of the malfunctioning boiler. There was a loud _thud_ from the contact, but the heavy piece of machinery didn't move an inch.

The C3 water-tube boiler was having issues, once again, and he couldn't pinpoint the problem, _once again_. The massive thing was complete junk and he'd been complaining about it _forever_. He even went as far as taking the thing apart and rebuilding it from scratch. One time, the submarine had been without heat for three weeks and the only happy one about that was Bepo. But even then, something was still wrong considering some rooms suddenly became a frozen hell overnight and remain like that for days. Logically, one would think it's the coils that carried the heat to the rooms, but the blonde mechanic replaced all those three times already. He knew by then it was his very picky boiler.

He was at his wit's end…

"Nigel?" Penguin's voice broke him from his rage educed trance. "What the _fuck_ are you doing with that hammer?"

The blonde mechanic was caught in the act of having the mighty mallet in his hands, his stance ready to swing all his weight to crush the metal menace. "Stress relief."

Penguin pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the skin from irritation. Though, before the head mechanic could get off one word of scolding, the hum of sirens started to go off. It was a gentle hum that was loud enough to wake the submarine if needed, but not loud enough to alert enemies if they were close.

"Flevance is preparing to go under," and the head mechanic jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Forget C3 for now and go help with the engines. We need every man there since we don't know what we'll find under the Red Line."

* * *

The light from the morning sun dimmed as they drifted deeper into the depths of the unknown. The sea went black outside, the faint light from inside the submarine making it only possible to see a few feet before it was a screen of darkness. Shadows of fish swam by, the giant schools scattering when something even bigger quickly darted at them.

Jim removed a hand from the wheel, his hand hovering over a line of switches. He flipped one on and then the one right next to it. First, the lights within the control room went off, shrouding those inside with darkness. Then there was a flicker of light from outside the submarine before the headlights doused the dark sea with a vibrant white glow.

Ameria gasped, leaning even further over her perch behind Jim's seat to the point where she rested her chest against the top of his head, the amulet around her neck accidentally hitting him in the cheek. His small curse went unnoticed as her face lit up at the colorful scene.

The submarine swam with the marina, the world underneath the Red Line brimming with life. The schools of little guppies wiggled by, and the orange and yellow fishes all seemed to scream in fright when they noticed the large submarine barreling towards them. The schools all escaped into different types of coral that covered the walls of the cavern. The lights from the submarine reflected off the reefs, showcasing a rainbow of colors that swayed with the currents.

Some of the larger aqua life was curious of the submarine. Such as a few large purple fish with yellow fins that bumped against the windows and then latched onto the glass. Jim, annoyed that his view was blocked, rocked the submarine with his controls to try and shake off the sucker fish. The wave of frightened fish caused a moment of distraction, making the head pilot crash into a cove. The submarine shook, and everyone steady themselves upon the impact.

Then there was a mighty roar. Blue scales framed by the window moved as the something living unraveled itself from slumber.

"_Jim!_" Law barked, a violent scowl on his features as he abruptly stood up from his seat. "_Get us—!_"

An ear splitting roar interrupted the surgeon as a malevolent copper eye of a Sea King stared through the window. The serpent's brow was covered in white spikes that followed the downward movement as the beast furrowed its brow. The sea king's silted pupil dilated as it let out another ear breaking shriek.

"_Andy!_" Law looked to the artillery technician. "_Fire!_"

A wicked grin crossed the weapons technician's lips as he gripped the joystick in his hand, his eyes watching the tiny screen that had the image of the serpent's eye. A red crosshair moved along the screen until it turned into a square, the words _locked_ flashing brightly in green. Then he pressed the large red button atop of the joystick.

The submarine jolted backwards from the impact of the torpedo hitting the sea king's eye. The window was engulfed in a cloud of foam and bubbles, and Jim used the window of opportunity to flee, putting the submarine into overdrive.

Charlie's station was active with lights, the maintenance technician scanning all the screens that started to blink a violent red. "_Jimmie_, Flevance can't handle—!" The submarine lurched forward suddenly, cutting off the maintenance technician. Charlie's brows furrowed, sweat dripping down his brow. "Sea King's ramming us from behind!"

"Step on it, Jim!" Law roared, his hands gripping tightly onto the railing.

Jim followed the orders, pushing up a lever that made the Flevance go even faster. The head pilot leaned back in his seat from the pressure.

Ameria lost her grip on the head pilot's chair, her feet lifting from the floor and she was hurled backwards into the metal railing of the second landing. She let out a breathless gasp of pain, cringing as the agony spread throughout her entire body.

Charlie's station was screaming, the screens all flashing with the word danger, which made the alarms go off throughout the submarine. "Flevance is in a critical state!"

"Don't let up!" Law snapped, a wicked grin on his lips. One hand held firm to the railing and the other kept his hat in place. He trembled from the thrill. "I trust my baby!"

Charlie groaned loudly in frustration as he turned to the den-den mushi that was—oddly enough—sleeping calmly despite the situation. He picked up the receiver, the snail waking up with an irritated expression as it hollered with the voice of the ginger. "_I don't care!_" Charlie snapped back. "Do whatever you can! We got a Sea King on our ass—!"

The point was emphasized when the beast rammed them in the back once more as they emerged from the caverns and entered the open waters of the New World. Flevance was going through the waters on willpower alone, but the beast's forceful ramming was putting a toll on the poor submarine.

"_Everything's failing!_" Charlie was panicking, the maintenance technician rapidly hitting buttons on the panels to try and salvage something.

"Andy, ready the guns!" Law spoke up again, a dark smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "If we can't outrun it, _we'll kill it._"

"God, I love making things go _boom!_" Andy cackled as he held firm to the joystick in his hand. His free hand then rapidly pressed an arrow button beside the screen, images rotating until it landed upon the Sea King that still followed the submarine. The crosshairs on the weapons technician's screen followed the slithering serpent in the water, the red lines having trouble locking onto its target.

Then the radar went wild, something big coming their way. Jim looked around wildly through the window to see what it was, and his eyes opened wide at what he saw. He made a sharp left, causing the Sea King to swim right passed them as it had tried to ram them once more. The beast turned around, the angular jaw opening wide to reveal thousands of rows of razor sharp teeth. It lunged for them, but then the sea suddenly went red when something came crashing through the waters, severing the Sea King's head from its body.

Law's brows furrowed together at the sight and he leaped over the railing, rushing over to the window. He leaned over the control panels and peered out the glass. The misty cloud of blood obscured his view, but he managed to see the dead sea king fall into the depths of darkness along with something else. "_Ice?_" He murmured, looking up to see that a large sheet of ice was covering the ocean's surface above them. He then looked back to his navigator. "Is the log pose pointing to an island to the north?"

Cleon looked at the log pose, the design made with three different needles instead of just a single one. "Nope, one is spinning around like a top, another is pointing us to Fishman Island and the third is telling us to go up and east."

"_Hmm,_" Law hummed in thought. "Well, looks like we won't be able to surface for a while. We'll follow the needle that is pointing east for now. And guys," he eyed the three pilots, all the men looking rather fatigued. "Relax a bit. Hopefully we will have a bit of peace to make engine repairs."

"Why don't we just go to Fishman Island?" Ameria spoke up as she walked over to the surgeon, rubbing the sores that had formed on her shoulder. "I have a few friends there, so making repairs will be safer."

Law sighed, shaking his head. "An ideal solution, but avoiding Fishman Island is probably the best idea for now."

Ameria's brows furrowed in confusion. "Why?"

Law grimaced, a dark frown on his lips. "Do you really want to see what it has become after the death of Whitebeard?"

* * *

She sat on her heels, her back straight and body poised with the elegance she was taught at a very young age. She observed the forest green fabric shrine maiden's robes, her hands smoothing out the wrinkled before she folded her fingers together in her lap.

"_Autumn._"

She looked up when her name was called, her emerald gaze settling on the withered old man that was her father. The heavy wrinkles of his tanned features seemed to permanently shut his eyes, and the only hair on his head was his bushy grey eyebrows were furrowed in concern. He laid his wooden cane across his lap, the wood worn and twisted from years of usage. He shifted back and forth on a thin cushion he sat upon right in front of the altar that idealized Guardian. The gold statue of a man draped in a cloak and a hood that covered his head, but the stature had piercing eyes that seemed to spy on her.

"Can you explain to me what happened, my daughter?" Her father continued, his chin lifting so a small sliver of his eyes could see her.

A small smile came to her red painted lips. "Of course, Father," she replied curtly. "It was all a misunderstanding. As the shrine's head maiden, it is my duty to make sure the others villagers don't wander passed the wall or else the demon will claim them." Then a frown came to her lips as she placed a hand to her chest, a worried expression on her pretty features. "I was trying to stop them from doing something foolish, Father! Guardian teaches us that some foes may not be killable, but that does not mean they are unstoppable: the wards will protect us."

"I see." The old man smiled, sighing in relief as his stiff shoulders relaxed. "I'm very happy you cleared that up, Autumn. I knew you could never be cruel as to throw those girls behind the wall. It's a punishment only for the evil."

She smiled sweetly. "But of course," she nodded. "Those poor girls…such a shame they tried to do something so foolish."

Her father returned the nod, but then his soft expression hardened to the young man that sat beside her. "_Fall,_" his voice was stern.

Fall, her twin brother, had been sitting crossed-legged on the floor, his elbow propped up on his knee so he could cradle his cheek. He slumbered away in the hall of the shrine, a large bubble of snot expanding and shrinking with each snore he took. He wore his green robes sloppily, the black shirt with a skull printed on the front was peering out for all to see. "_Huh?_" He snorted, looking around puzzled. "Wazzup?"

Their father sighed with a shake of his head, disappointed. "You're supposed to be head of the shrine one day, and you look like…like _this_. Why can't you be like your sister?"

"_Eh?_" Fall tilted his head to the side as he flicked his wrist, the sleeve of his robe producing a comb that landed in his hand. "But I am like her," he corrected as he combed the side of his pompadour so not a single ginger hair was out of place. "Exactly like her."

She giggled with a shake of her head. "You are nothing like me, dear brother." She watched Fall open his mouth to protest, but his sister's emerald eyes gleamed with a warning, and he instantly zipped his lips. Then she turned back to her father, bowing her head. "We shall take our leave then."

Their father nodded in approval and the twins both stood up. Autumn lifted her body up from the ground gracefully while her brother leaned back and swung his legs to build the momentum that he needed to leap to his feet. Their father shook his head at the sight. Autumn briskly walked towards the exit, her brother in tow, Fall shimmying through the sliding door before his sister could close it on him.

They walked together down the hall, and when the shrine was out of sight, Fall opened his mouth to speak. He was interrupted when green robes covered his face. He ripped them away, blinking at his sister.

Autumn was wearing her usual attire underneath her maiden robes. Acid-wash skinny jeans, the denim ripped and frayed so the tan skin of her thighs and calves where showing. They hung low on her hips to the point where her dimples of Venus was showing on her back for the world to see. She pulled at the hem of her black shirt to further expose her cleavage, yet the tight shirt still left her toned midriff bare, the dangly belly-button piercing gleaming in the light.

She sighed in relief as she undid the bun in her hair, her long ginger curls going wild as she shook her head. She flipped back the loose strands with both her hands, a devilish scowl appearing on her features. "Damn assholes," she scoffed harshly, cracking her knuckles. "Looks like I'm gonna have to do some fucking _teachings_ again."

* * *

A tankard of beer was slammed down on the table, courtesy of the blonde mechanic. Ameria held up her hands to try and block the foam that flew from the tanker's edge, but a few bubbles still splattered onto her cheek. She wiped them away with her finger, glaring down at the foaming tankard before her. Then her shoulders jolted with surprise when everyone at the table suddenly stood up with tanker in hand, and she hurried to follow suit.

Nigel, Jim, Charlie, Andy, Sam, herself and a few others all stood up at the round table, huddled together shoulder to shoulder. They clanged the edges of their tankers together, cheering for surviving the first of many encounters they were going to face in the New World. Ameria joined in on the cheer, however, she didn't dare take a sip of alcohol. She just sat down when the others did and then stared at her untouched drink.

Nigel eyed her with a narrow glare. "Drink up, brat," and he slammed his empty tanker down. "Don't waste good money."

Ameria frowned, scratching the side of her cheek. "I'm not good at holding my liquor…" she admitted sheepishly. "I'll just be the DSP: the designated sober person. I'll make sure you all get back to Flevance in one piece with as little vomiting inside as possible so you don't get in trouble and if you hit on a girl that isn't at least an eight out of ten I'll get her to hit the road before you wake up regretting the next morning."

Jim rammed the burned out bud of his cigarette into the ashtray in the middle of the table. Then he pointed a finger towards the bone mage. "Her," he said with a smirk. "I like her."

"She's a bro!" Sam threw his head back in laughter, the short mechanic already tipsy with ginger cheeks.

"_Lady_-bro," Andy corrected.

"Okay, that's cool. It's cool," Nigel admitted with a nod. "_But,_" and he pushed the tanker closer to the bone mage. "One drink ain't gonna kill you. You know you wanna~"

Ameria scanned all the eyes that were staring at her. "_Tch,_" she grumbled, taking the tanker in her hands. "This is peer pressure," and she took a long swing of the foamy beer.

Her fellow crewmates hollered with a cheer as she joined them for a drink. She felt the buzz in the back of her throat and it sent warmth all the way down to her toes and back up her spine. The feeling made her just as giddy and red-faced as the rest of the men. As the night carried on, the drinks continued to flow, but she knew she was doomed after one drink. Nigel continued to order round after round, and the drunker he got, the more drinks he pushed her way.

It wasn't long until they were all shitfaced.

Ameria's head fell to the tabletop, her body numb as she felt the blonde mechanic slap her back roughly. She groaned, peeling her crimson cheek from the cold wood.

"C'n't hold your lic—" Nigel hiccuped, his eyes blinking rapidly as he swayed back and forth. Then he finished his slur. "—_lic-core_."

Ameria sluggishly sat back up, her head like a heavy weight that fell over to rest upon Nigel's shoulder. She let out a tiny purr, closing her eyes from the dreariness.

_Bang!_

Her head then snapped back up, her attention on the entrance of the bar. The rest of the patrons also turned to stare as a group of women waltzed through the doorway. The four girls were all similarly dressed: tight jeans and an even tighter black tees. The only difference among the women was the color of their hair. The one leading the pack was the most striking. She was beautiful, curly ginger hair that cascaded down her back and her emerald eyes radiated with a sense of power.

She prowled through the bar, a small sashay in her step. Her eyes glazed over the men in the bar, a few sailors intrigued by the ginger's beauty, but it seemed that the locals refused to make eye contact. Then her emerald eyes fell upon the small group of Heart Pirates tucked away in the corner of the bar.

A mischievous smile curled the corners of her red lips; she looked like a predator after her prey. She wiggled her way between Andy and Sam, showing no concern as Andy shameless ogled at her chest that was nearly touching his nose. She placed a hand on the table, a red fingernail tapping against the wood. "We get pirates here day and night," her small smile turned into a wicked grin. "But never did I think my little Evergreen would get a _Supernova's_ crew."

"I'm sure you have lots of stories about the sea." One of the girls swooned, flashing a bright grin on her pink lips. "I'd love to hear them all." She whispered, flipping a long lock of green hair over her shoulder. "_All night long,_" and she bit the tip of her fingernail that was painted white with a design of a daisy.

"All those other pirates had such _boring_ stories," the third replied with a heavy sigh, dropping her head so her ivory bangs covered her amber eyes. Then she perked up, a grin appearing on her features. "But I'm sure a_ Supernova's_ crew will have tons of interesting things to say."

"And they're_ cute_ to boot~" the fourth girl giggled, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her slender finger as she sent a wink towards Jim. The head pilot's eyes shifted back and forth before he pointed to himself, which made the blonde giggle again with an innocent smile, yet the gleam in her blue eyes said anything but innocent.

Then suddenly the flirtatious mood dissolved as the ginger frowned, pouting slightly. "But it looks like their babysitting a drunk," and she looked towards the barely conscious bone mage.

"Awe~ such a shame…"

"And it was such a good idea…"

"To think a one in a lifetime chance…_gone_."

Nigel shoved Ameria away, making the drunk bone mage topple over in her seat and hit the ground hard. "Babysittin', _pfft_," the blonde mechanic scoffed, looking around like nothing happened. "Don—" he hiccuped. "Don worry 'bout t'at. She's a fuckin' brat."

The ginger's smile returned. "Oh, she one of_ those_ types. You know, there is a name for girls like her, but it isn't used in _high_ society." Then that mischievous smile grew dark. "Outside of a kennel," and the three girls behind her started to laugh.

Ameria's eyes shot open when she heard the insult, the alcohol fueling her emotions and she saw red: bloody crimson red. She got to her feet, slamming her foot to the ground, which only made the four women laugh at her more because they thought she was throwing a fit. But then she grabbed the edge of the round table and flipped it and the still full tankers all went flying. Her fellow crewmates scurried to get out of dodge, avoiding the table as it crumbled to the ground. Then the shriek of horror echoed through the beams of the ceiling as beer stained all the women save for the ginger that easily sidestepped the incoming tankers.

Ameria marched forward, pushing Andy aside so the furious scowl of the ginger was revealed. The bone mage poked the ginger in the collarbone. "_Bitch,_" she snapped. "_Bitch_ is the word you are lookin' for, which is what you are."

The ginger's brows knotted further together and her emerald gaze was razor sharp. She slapped the bone mage's hand away then placed her hands on her hips, using her height as an advantage. "Well, excuse you, _whore,_" her nice girl act shriveled up with her harsh words. "You don't wanna mess with me," and then she placed her finger to the bone mage's forehead. "Or you might find yourself in _hell,_" and then she nudged the bone mage away.

"Bitch please," the bone mage staggered as she waved a finger back and forth, one of her crewmates placing a hand to her back for support. "Bitch please, do you know who I am? I'm motherfucking _Bones._"

The ginger scoffed, unamused. "And I'm, like, motherfucking Autumn," she cattily replied, smacking her gums as if she was chewing gum. "And I, like, motherfucking rule this island."

"_Hell no_," the bone mage drew out the words as she wagged her finger around wildly in front of the irritated ginger. "_Hell_ to the _no_. You just a bitch that _thinks_ she's in charge."

"_Ha. Ha,_" the ginger laughed with mocking innocence. "Oh, but it's true. Sweetheart, if you knew who my daddy was…"

"_Pfft_—" the bone mage cut her off. "If you knew who _my_ daddy was, your daddy would be dead."

The ginger's scornful attitude boiled to rage, her cheeks turning bright red. "You have no idea what he can do," her voice was cold.

"Oh, you're right, _haha_, I don't." Ameria shrugged with an annoyed smile. "But don't worry, I can show you what my daddy taught me to do." Then in a flash, the bone mage rammed her knuckles into the ginger's cheek, sending her off her feet.

The ginger staggered backward to her group of friends, the three gasping in shock and concern. The ginger was bewildered, her eyes wide as her fingertips grazed over her cheek. She flinched at the pain, and it fueled her rage as she charged the bone mage.

Clothes were ripped, hair was pulled and curses were shouted. The bone mage's fellow crewmates finally broke from the shock and rushed forward to pull her back from the catfight. Then the bartender came barreling across the room, his beer gut jiggling wildly as he ran through the crowd of patrons that had surrounded the group. The large man then wrapped his arms around the ginger, taking large steps back.

The ginger violently tried to escape the bartender's muscular arms, her nails clawing into his chocolate skin and she thrashed her legs to constantly hit his knees. "You wait an' see!" She shrieked like a banshee, her emerald eyes bulging from their sockets. "_You will pay for this!_"

Ameria struggled in the blonde mechanic's strong grip around her waist. "I _dare_ you to try." A dark shadow cast over her eyes to make the blue irises gleam with treacherous intend, like a wolf eyeing its prey. "_Because I'll gut ya like a whoreson's pig!_"


	6. Chapter 6

#  **BANG!**

** _Bang, bang, bang!_ **

Ameria's brow twitched at the noises being hammered into her skull like nails. Groaning in agony, she flipped over in her bed and pulled the covers over her head.

_ **Bang, bang, bang!** _

She rolled over again, curling into a tight ball. She grabbed her pillow and shoved her head underneath to try blocking the constant sound.

** _Bang, bang, bang!_ **

Her attempt was futile. She let out a frustrated growl and sat up. Her ebony locks were in a tangled mess of knots and the strap of her tank-top slipped down her shoulder as she slouched. Her brows furrowed into a straight line of annoyance as she stared at the door to her room. Staggering out of bed, she stumbled uneasily as her familiars clung to her calves.

She peeked out into the hall, watching as the mechanics of the submarine ran back and forth with supplies. They all had unzipped their boilersuits halfway and tied the sleeves around their waists, exposing their pale tattooed skin underneath. Their muscular arms were drenched with sweat as they labored away on repairs for the Flevance. Men carried crates filled with new supplies over their shoulders with ease, their heavy footsteps mixing with the sound of nails digging into fresh new metal.

Ameria grumbled a curse under her breath. She knew she wasn't going to get any sleep with all the racket going on. With her familiars climbing her back to cling to her shoulders, she made her way to the sickbay in hopes to find something to ease her pounding headache.

"Heard it was a rough night."

Ameria was unamused by the cocky smirk on the surgeon's face as she walked through the door. Law lounged at the desk in the corner of the sickbay, his feet kicked up on the surface as he took a pause from reading the morning newspaper just to taunt her. She slapped her hands to her cheeks, pulling at her pale skin as her fingers slid down and she whined: "Too hungover for this."

"It's what you get for being _stupid._" Tanker chimed in with disappointment laced in his tone and he waved a bony finger in her face. "You-plus-alcohol is like black powder plus fire, equaling everything exploding into _iddy-bitty_ dust size pieces. It's like you _want_ to see the world_ burn_."

Ameria pinched the bridge of her nose and with her other hand she brought it up to where her noisy familiar was perched, whacking him upside the skull.

Tanker lost his grip and tumbled to the floor outside the sickbay. The familiar howled, but the bone mage cut him off as she slammed the door in his face. Her noisy familiar pounded upon the metal, but it only blended in with the rest of the racket that had engulfed the submarine.

"_Please_," she rubbed her temples that were pounding. "_Please_ can I have something to make the world just disappear."

"I'm a doctor, not a dealer of nukes." Law jerked his head towards the line of cabinets that filled the room's back wall. "There's ibuprofen in the cabinet above the sink. Take _only_ one. If you need more, you will need to wait at least two hours. The idea of taking _more_ than one at a time will help is a lie and will only get you an overdose. That is something I would _not_ like to deal with again due to the stupidity of hangovers."

Ameria felt too miserable to argue against his backhanded insult and simply followed his instructions. However, she noticed that beside the ibuprofen was another bottle that was labeled _belsomra_, which looked to be a type of sleeping pill. She pulled out the bottle, showing it to the surgeon. "Can I have one of these, too?"

Law glanced up from the newspaper, his eyes landing on the bottle briefly. "No," he was blunt and went back to reading.

Ameria threw back her head and groaned loudly. "But I just want to _sleep_," she stressed the word. "It will make the world disappear for a few hours at least…"

"Welcome to the majestic world of being an adult." Law grumbled. "You have to take care of your responsibilities, hangovers may be included."

Ameria pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. "What responsibilities?" She questioned, turning towards him to send him a glare. "There's no laundry to be done and I'm one hundred and ten percent sure you don't want me anywhere near the machinery for Flevance."

Law said not a word and never looked away from his reading as he removed one hand from the newspaper's edge and leaned over the armrest of his seat. Then he pulled up the cursed orange bucket and dropped it on the surface of the desk.

Ameria's eyes opened wide and her jaw went slack. "You _cannot_ be serious."

Law glanced at her, his expression like solid stone. "Does it look like I'm joking?"

Ameria eyed him warily, her gaze shifting towards the door.

"Run away and you might find yourself without legs, Miss Bones." Law warned her and pointed a finger to the stool in front of his desk. "Sit. We have work to do."

* * *

"_Autumn!_ My daughter, what on earth happened to you?!"

Autumn sat before her father at the shrine in their home, tears rolling down her bruised cheek. She tried to cover it from his sight with her hands, but that only caused the green fabric of her robe to fall down her shoulders when she let go of her grip. It revealed deep cuts along the pale skin of her collarbone. The robes were covered in dirt and specks of dried blood and the fabric was ripped, which exposed even more of her skin. Her hair that was usually in a neat bun when she was before her father was a tangled knot of curls, small leaves and twigs sticking out from the frizzy strands. She sobbed, but then coughed violently, her hand pressed against her collarbone in a pitiful attempt to ease her sore throat.

Her father rushed on his feeble old legs to his daughter. The cane danced in the crook of his arm and he lifted the fabric of his robes to help him run faster. Then he crumbled to his knees. His wrinkled face was filled with concern as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Tell me, Autumn!" He shook her. "What on earth happened?!"

"_O—Oh, Father!_" She wailed, burrowing her face to his chest. "I was only trying to help! I was only trying to help!"

Her father pat her messy ginger locks. "Please calm yourself a moment…" he whispered gently. "I can't help if you don't calm down."

Autumn's shoulders shuddered as she peeled away from her father's embrace. "I—I tried to warn her, Father." She stuttered, her lips trembling. "That pirate…the pirate named Bones. She—She was trying to climb over the wall! I told her to stop for there is a demon on the other side and she—she—" the sobs choked her words and she looked away, placing her face in her hands.

A dark shadow crossed her father's wrinkled expression. He then shot up, his entire body trembling with rage. He whipped out his cane and pressed his thumb to a knot on the twisted wood, pop, and a secret compartment was opened. Inside the tiny space was a small vial of white pills and her father grabbed it, popping the cork. He threw back his head, his mouth opened wide as he shook the vial. One tiny pill fell upon his tongue and he swallowed it whole. The sleeves over his arms were ripped to shreds, the hems of his pants were tattered to pieces and a giant tear split the fabric on his back. His weak limbs bulged with sudden muscles, his calves burst with popping veins and his torso grew five times in size, muscle on muscle being stacked upon each other.

Her father let out a roar that could only belong to a beast. His eyes were wide open, bulging from their sockets and blood shot. "**If she wants to be within the walls of the gate, so be it!**" He clenched his shaking fists. "**I shall execute the punishment myself!**"

"_Wait, Pops!_"

The leader of Evergreen snapped his attention to the sliding door that suddenly flew open, his bushy brows knotted together from fury. "**Fall!**" He bellowed, spit flying from his cracked lips. "**Do not try—!**" then the old man's eyes opened wide. "**What have you done to Junior!?**"

Fall stood in the open door, wearing his sloppy green robes so that the grinning skull could be seen. He stood with his hands on his hips, his head held high so his pompadour hairdo glimmered in the light due to all the gel. And beside him was an exact replica of his image, a mini, also known as his little brother.

"_T—That don't matter!_" Fall stuttered, trying his best to look strong as he spoke, but he was shaking violently. "I—I'm gonna deal with Bones!" He then declared, jamming his thumb to his chest. "As f—future head of Evergreen, it's my duty to learn how to _execute punishment_… Yeah, that's it! I need to learn, Pops!"

Their father eyed the young man with his wild eyes, but then slowly the wrinkles covered them once more. "**Hmph,**" he grunted, his trembling body relaxing. "**For once I agree with you son.**" He admitted in his beastly tone. "**I'm glad you are finally taking the role seriously. So be it,**" and he turned back to the shrine, his bare back exposed. "**Deal with it by tonight, or I will tomorrow morning.**"

"You got it, Pops!" Fall beamed proudly, a grin on his lips as he turned on his heel to leave the shrine, his calm little brother right behind him.

"_W—Wait—!_" Autumn shirked, the ginger gathering up her composure as she rushed after her brothers.

The two had already marched a ways down the hall, but the ginger sprinted at full speed to catch up. A darkness radiated from her form as she grabbed the collar of her twin's robe and yanked him backward. She whirled him around, nearly choking Fall as she lifted him off the floor from the neckline of his black tee. The mascara under her eyes had fallen down with her tears, making her look like a vicious wraith, and her twin cried in fear at the murderous glare in her emerald eyes.

"What that fuck do you think you're doing, moron?" She hissed with venom laced in every word. "You're ruining my plan! That whore needs to pay for what she did to me!"

"_B—B—B—But Autumn!_" Fall sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks and snot running from his nose. "_I have a better idea!_"

"_You think you're smarter than me now, fuck-face?!_"

"_Ahem._" The small cough below them stopped the ginger short of beating her twin to a pulp. "It was my idea."

Autumn looked down, seeing that her little brother had an innocent smile on his lips, but his emerald eyes gleamed with mischievous intent. "Heh," the ginger smirked and let go of her grip on Fall, her twin crumbling to the floor into a fetal position. "I should have known this was your work, Junior," and she crouched down, leaning towards her little brother. "Now…tell big sis what you have in mind…"

* * *

Ameria leaned over, her arms stretched out so her hands were nearly on the other side of the desk. Her chin rested against the cool metal of the surface, her bored expression illuminated by the grey glow coming from her hands. The dust swirled around between her palms. Then she covered the tiny pile with her hands before removing them again to reveal a tiny skeleton.

The miniature skeleton was only the height of her middle finger. It stood at attention, a saber made of cartilage in its little hands. The miniature held its saber like it was a knight's suit of armor in a grand hall, but then it lashed the blade out. One boney hand behind its spine, the miniature then began to practice the basics to fencing.

Law folded back the corner of the newspaper to inspect her work. With an emotionless expression, he moved one hand towards the miniature. He pressed the nail of his forefinger to the pad of his thumb and then flicked the miniature's skull clean off. "Wrong," he was blunt. He straightened out the paper and then went back to reading.

_Tap_, the speck of cartilage hit the bone mage in the middle of the forehead. Her expression never changed as she covered the headless miniature with her hands once more. The grey magic created a new masterpiece and she opened her hands to showcase her craftsmanship.

The new miniature had its head replaced, but there was also a cartilage top-hat upon its skull. The miniature leaned against a bone cane, shaking its hip bones side to side. Then it twirled its cane twice before tucking it under its armpit. The miniature did a little jig, kicking one leg out and then the other as it removed and replaced its hat repeatedly. The miniature's teeth clacked wildly together, the rhythm sounding like the tune: _hello my honey, hello my darling_.

Law looked down at the miniature, annoyance wearing on the emotionless mask he wore. Again, he pressed the nail his forefinger to the pad of his thumb before the dancing miniature. First, he flicked the top hat,_ tap_, and then the skull,_ tap_. "Stop screwing around," he warned before going back to reading the paper again.

Both cartilage objects rammed against her forehead one after the other, the force creating a tiny red spot to appear on her skin. The bone mage groaned lightly, and for a third time covered the headless miniature. Her fingers wiggled in the grey aura and then she peeled them away to reveal not a skeleton, but a clam.

The clam was made of smooth cartilage, the lid slowly lifting like a curtain for the miniature within. The miniature stood like the Birth of Venus, the little thing having locks of bony fingers wiggle like it was touched by pure wind. One of its bony hands over it's breastbone while the other held a section of the ragged excuse for hair over its pelvis.

Law glanced down, unamused. He placed a fingertip to the lip of the shell and pushed it down, forcing the miniature back inside. Then abruptly, he slammed the side of his fist against the cartilage, shattering it to pieces.

He uncrossed his ankles and removed his legs from resting at the corner of the desk and he rammed the soles of his boots to the floor. Slamming his forearm to the desk right in front of the bone mage's hands, he lowered his head to be level with hers and he scowled at her darkly. He opened his mouth, but his brows furrowed when nothing came out and his lips sealed shut. He tried again, but nothing changed.

Ameria stared at him blankly, and then shrugged.

Law then threw his back into the cushion of his seat. He leaned back his head, his hat tumbling backwards to allow his slender fingers free passage to run through his ebony locks.

If she wasn't in a state of misery, Ameria would have taken pride in the fact that she broke the surgeon.

There was a moment of silence, neither of them moving from their spots. Law was the first to break his pose as he leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his knees and he rested his head in his hands. "Sleep." His voice was stern and boiling was a tremor of anger. "Go to fucking _sleep._"

The bone mage shot up, fists pumping in victory. Then she turned on her heel dashing towards, not the door, but to the cots on the other side of the room. She flopped on the thin mattress, wrinkling the white sheets as she curled up with the small pillow.

"In_ your_ room, Miss Bones."

Ameria didn't move an inch, and instead declared: "I claim this cot as my own."

She was out like a light, and she clung to her dreams…

…_holding to the colorful images tightly._

_She was exposed to the waters of the sea, floating with gentle currents. The marina swam through her transparent form; she was just a ghost to them. She drifted with schools of guppies until something larger with sharp teeth scattered them. The coral reefs warped with the sunlight filtering through the water's surface. The white lines of the waves danced over the bright pinks, oranges and reds. She closed her eyes, embracing the serenity._

_When she reopened them, she was in open waters. Endless dark blue filled with nothingness. The reef behind her had completely disappeared, leaving her nowhere to go. Then suddenly, a rumble came from the darkness below. Her gaze wandered to the sound, her eyes wide as she watched something emerged from the depths._

_A cloud of black grew before her, the smog lifting to reveal as a monstrous version of her noisy familiar. Tanker towered over her, the red glow flickering from his eye sockets covered her bare form in red. He engulfed the darkness and his large skull leaned in closer to her tiny form. And then he snored, sucking her inside his gullet._

The quake of his voice made her sit up instantly, the noisy familiar falling from his perch atop her face and into her lap.

The darkness of the sickbay made her blink rapidly, puzzled. Then she remembered that she passed out on one of the cots hours ago. Her jacket acted as a blanket, draped over her exposed arms as she slept, and her two familiars had fallen asleep at her side—and one that was formerly on her head.

She examined the space, and her eyes were drawn to the tiny speck of light in the corner. The hanging lamp above the desk cast a yellow spotlight on the metal surface, three jars center stage. The jars were filled with floating hearts, the organs oddly discolored. The medical assistant sat behind the desk, a look of concentration on his features as he rotated one of the jars around slowly and then scribbled notes on a pad.

Brodie noticed her staring and he paused, looking away from his work to send her a small smile. "Good morning—" he cut himself off, scratching the side of his cheek. "_Err_, evening, I mean."

Ameria, still slightly dazed, furrowed her brows when she felt—or heard—the absence of something. "It's quiet…"

"They finished Flevance's repairs a while ago." Brodie replied. "They went to that bar you guys went to the other night. Apparently they have really good barbecue…"

Ameria tilted her head to the side. "Why didn't you go?"

Brodie shrugged. "I've been helping Captain with some experiments," and he motioned to the jars. "I'll be here for a few more hours taking notes."

Intrigued, she asked: "What kind of experiments?"

Brodie merely smiled and shook his head lightly. "Why don't you go to the bar and get some food," he avoided the question. "Sal's already went to bed for the night and you know how he doesn't like people messing with the kitchen without his permission."

As curious as the bone mage was about the experiments that the surgeon and medical assistant were conducting, Ameria decided to leave it be. She considered it best that she didn't know.

Instead, she nodded in agreement with the medical assistant suggestion. She would admit she had a thing for good barbecue. She hopped out of the cot and tied her jacket's sleeves around her waist firmly and then gathered up her familiars. The two woke up with a gentle shake, Tanker more irrigated than Shnell. The noisy familiar had whispered insults in her ear the entire way to the bar.

The bar, Little Snitch, looked lively compared to the other night. There was loud music that rattled the glass windows and laughter was barely muffled by the walls. It seemed to take over the street. Other businesses that were still open at the late hours of dusk were closing up shop, yet she noticed that something was off. The hours painted onto the glass doors didn't sync up with when the businesses should have closed. Everyone seemed to be leaving _early_, even the bar's competition.

She warily noted the situation in the back of her mind as she peeked through one of the windows of the bar. It was almost the entire Heart Pirates crew within, the men laughing, drinking and dancing with a horde of women that dressed in a disturbingly similar manor. The women didn't look like the average street walkers, but instead, they looked as if they were a part of a local gang that owned the streets. If they had tits and ass, then she knew the crew wouldn't care though. She saw how they were on Amazon Lily, or tried to be.

To their heart's content: they would flirt, they would cozy up and they would—she shuddered. She didn't want to think of what else.

That thought aside, the chaos within Little Snitch looked almost like a private party with only two groups present. She couldn't help but remember something when she scanned over a small group of girls that looked very familiar, especially the ginger that had cozied up to the surgeon. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she just couldn't draw it out. The memories probably belonged to the black hole that was eaten by a few hours of drinking the previous night.

She just shrugged it off; sometimes it was better not to try and dwell on nights when one was drunk.

She carried on her way, opening the door to the bar. She was instantly struck by an intense mix of perfume that made her eyes water and head spin. The moment of distraction caused her to bump into someone in front of the entrance, but before she could even apologize, she was pushed to the ground outside the bar.

Tanker and Shnell were nearly crushed by her back, the two small skeletons popping out from behind her shoulder. Shnell couldn't say a word, but Tanker was more than enough voice for them both. "_Ru~ude_ brutes!" the noisy familiar hollered, shaking two fists at the culprits. "Learn some manners! You almost crushed the cutest creature in all the Four Blues!"

The bone mage rubbed the sores that bloomed along her lower back and then she looked up, seeing a pair of…twins, if she could even call the two that. The two had the same facial features that labeled them relatives, a strong jawline and bright pink eyes and even their brown hair was done up in the same style of pigtails. But those were the only things that the two had in common.

The woman on the right looked more muscular than Jean Bart, which was saying something. The gigantic pecks of the large woman pulled at the tight fabric of her black tee and the denim of her jeans looked ready to burst at the seams. Then the woman on the right was small, her figure petite. So thin that her ripped jeans had to be held up by two belts and she had bandages around her chest so her small bosom wasn't exposed by the deep neckline of her shirt.

The muscular twin crossed her bulging arms, her skin pulsing with veins. "No one is allowed in," her voice was deep, a deep that also rivaled the tone of Jean Bart.

"This is, like, _um_," the small twin wildly chewed on a piece of gum as she twirled a stray lock of brown hair around her finger. Her voice was high-pitched, and the tone was catty as she continued. "A super, like, _super_ private party."

Ameria blinked slowly. "…That's my crew in there."

The small twin blew a bright pink bubble and then the gum popped, covering her red lips. "Like, _uh_, read my lips," she stressed each word slowly as she peeled the gum away from her skin. "_Private_. Like._ Party_."

"No invite, no passage," and the muscular twin slammed the door shut.

Ameria exchanged a surprised look with her familiars, first looking to Tanker who shrugged and then to Shnell who merely pat her cheek twice. The bone mage then shook her head and rolled her eyes. Getting back on her feet, she dusted off the dirt clinging to her clothing and then stalked off. Not like the barbecue would ever be as good as what she had a home, and it's not like she was in the mood for a drink either. Or ever again.

Ameria rubbed her temples, the memories enough to bring forth a mild headache. Then she felt her noisy familiar tug on her ebony hair, only fueling the dull pound against her forehead. She was about to whip an insult to her noisy familiar, but then something caught her eye.

Shutters were slammed shut, doors were locked and all homes went black. There was an eerie silence on the street, and it felt like the commotion within Little Snitch only grew louder. The only source of light came from the streetlamps that revealed a group of men emerging from the shadows of the alleyway beside the bar.

The group of grease monkeys approached, snapping their fingers with a bit of pep in their step. Then they stopped in the spotlight underneath a streetlamp, posing as a group with arms crossed over their chests. The yellow light reflected off the men's black leather jackets, and they tapped their boots against the cobblestone as they parted like the sea.

A young man stepped out from the shadows, his ginger pompadour gleaming in the moonlight from buckets of too much hair gel. His leather jacket unzipped, revealing a black tee with a grinning skull on the front. The group followed the young man's movements as he flicked his wrist, combs flying from their sleeves and then slapping into their palms. Then they all started to comb any stray hairs from their matching pompadour hairstyles.

Ameria eyed the group, more disturbed than she was when she saw the group of women inside little Snitch.

The young man then spoke up. "Heard you made a…a,_ uh_…" he paused, leaving his comb in his hair as he tapped a finger to his chin. "_Uh_, what's the word?"

"Mockery," a voice replied, the tone high-pitched and belonging to a child. Then from behind the young man came a small boy who looked like a miniature of the leader of the grease monkeys. The small boy stood with his chin held high and his arms crossed over his chest, his emerald gaze surprisingly more intimidating than that of the young man's.

"Yeah…?" Then the lightbulb went off above the leader's head and he tapped the side of his fist to his other's palm. "_Yeah!_ That's the word! Mockery!" and then he pointed an accusing finger towards the bone mage. There was a harsh expression on his features, the young man's face warping into a twisted look of rage. "I heard you made a mockery of my sister!"

Ameria's brows furrowed in confusion. "Who?"

The group of grease monkeys followed their leader in sync—excluding the small boy—and then they all took a step back in shock. Their eyes were wide, sweat dripping down their brows.

"_W—What?!_" The leader stuttered, spit flying from his mouth. A bead of snot dripping from his nose as he ogled the bone mage with eyes popping from their sockets. "You sayin' you _don't_ remember?!"

"I guess so?" Ameria shrugged.

Then the leader pointed a shaky finger towards her and stomped his foot to the ground, shouting at the top of his lungs: "_You said you'd gut her like a whoreson's pig!_"

"Oh…" Ameria held her chin, glancing down in thought. "I would say something like _that._"

The small boy groaned at the state of the older men surrounding him and he pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He grumbled something under his breath and then he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket.

**Bang!**

The grease monkeys all jumped at the sound of gunshot, their faces pale and buckets of sweat dripping down their faces. The heat made their styled hair droop against their foreheads as they all stared at the small boy that held a fancy revolver in his tiny hands.

Ameria had taken a step back, the bullet inches away from her toes. A billow of smoke still pillowed up from the stone. Her brows furrowed from surprise and caution. She glanced to the side, seeing inside the window of the bar that the crew hadn't noticed the noise at all.

"Enough of this." The small boy's tone was just as cold as the look in his eyes. "Bones," he addressed her. "120 million beli. That's a nice bounty you have on your head."

Ameria didn't like where this was going. Child or not, a gun was a gun and it seemed the small boy had good aim with it. If she could just get _someone's_ attention…

**Bang!**

"Don't even try," the small boy smirked deviously. "Big Sis's got your crew on lockdown. They'll never come out until she wants them to leave."

Ameria grit her teeth, steadying herself. The small boy's finger was trigger happy, but she remained calm. Her gaze travelled to her noisy familiar that had went silent. "_Tanker._"

Her familiar snapped from his daze, a determined glow in the red aura from his eye sockets and he followed the unsaid command. He dug his tiny hands into the folds of his robe and retrieved a tiny vial, a red powder swirling within the glass. Then he threw it to the ground with a battle cry, causing a giant cloud of smoke to swell forth.

The grease monkeys coughed violently within the red smog. It clouded their view, their eyes burning and bloodshot with tears. They tripped and stumbled over each other, shouting curses at the heavens. When the cloud was clear, the grease monkeys found themselves in a dogpile.

The small boy growled in pain, rubbing his teary eyes with the sleeve of his jackets. When he looked up, he roared. "_Stop her!_"

Ameria was forced to run inland rather than towards the submarine since the grease monkeys had blocked her path. She bit her lip, furious that she couldn't even run into the bar for help from her crew that was right there. She was surrounded by enemies that dumbly wanted her dead, and she couldn't even clearly remember _why_.

**Bang! Bang!**

Bullets whizzing passed her cheeks snapped her from anger and she focused on the stampede behind her. The ground shook wildly as she ran through the streets, lost and confused when she suddenly entered a forest. A bit of confidence came back to her when she felt the darkness touch her skin. There were more places for her to hide in a dense forest than a city she barely knew. Though, that confidence in her heart fell to the pits of her stomach when she reached a dead end. A large wooden wall covered in charms blocked her path. She pursed her lips, feeling a bad omen was beyond this wall if there were so many wards. She was between a rock and a hard place: it was either being turned into marines or the unknown. She chose the latter.

Ameria scrambled up the wall, balancing herself atop. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the grease monkeys silhouettes closing in and she was about to jump down to the other side of the wall when—**bang!**

The gunshot disturbed the wildlife, the squawking of hundreds of birds flying from treetops drowned out her scream. She fell to the ground, crumbling in a growing pool of blood.

Shnell and Tanker had fallen from her shoulders, and they scurried to her side, watching as she clutched the wound on her right shoulder. Tanker's jaw hung low as he was about to scream, but the bone mage gently shushed him.

"Y—you killed her!"

"_D—D—D—Dude!_"

"N—Not cool, Junior!"

"Now we'll _never_ get the bounty."

"No way the marines will give us anything…"

"_Tch_. I'm not an idiot. Bones is only wanted _alive_, this would be worthless if I killed her."

Tanker covered his mouth with all four hands. Ameria kept her breath shallow, trying her best to ignore the pain as she applied pressure on the fresh bullet wound.

"Oh? Oh! Yeah, that's right!"

"So we just need to—wait…"

"Y—You mean you're gonna go in there?!"

"_Junior!_ There's a demon in there!"

"You know the stories! It's the most active at night!"

"You can't risk going in there alone!"

"You won't survive!"

"I think you are all mistaken."

"…"

"At the crack of dawn, we're _all_ going in there. I swear, I _will_ get Bones's head for the Marines. I swear it."


	7. Chapter 7

#  **An Amhránaí Bás**

Ameria slid down the base of the tree's trunk, resting between the roots. Her legs could no longer drag her through the woods, the agony from her shoulder spreading like wildfire. "T—Tanker…" She grit her teeth, her hand stained red as it covered the wound. "Do y—you have salves?"

Tanker nodded slowly at her side. He lifted the fabric of his robes, shaking it gently so a collection of items fell to the ground. Between the tall blades of grass was a litter of bottles and vials, but the noisy familiar picked up a large jar filled with an olive green syrup that clung to the glass within. "I do, but…" he eyed her nervously, shifting back and forth on his tiny feet as he picked up a roll of bandages. "I can't apply it when the bullet is still in there…."

She pursed her lips into a thin line, making the skin around it go pale. Her eyes examined the wound as she removed her hand from her shoulder. She was going to bleed to death is she didn't do something. The aura of her magic surrounded her bloody hand, the dust between her fingers swirled above her palm. The dust hardened to cartilage, the bone lone with a sharp pointed edge.

Tanker gasped, his feeble grip clutching to her wrist that held the blade. "You can't be serious!" He wailed, pulling desperately at her arm. "You can't do that! You have no idea how to do that!"

Shnell had joined to help the noisy familiar, but she ignored them both. They dangled from her arm as she positioned the blade at the entrance to the bullet wound. She closed her eyes, her brows twitching and drenched in sweat as she mentally prepared herself for the pain to come. She bit her lip, drawing blood as the blade disturbed the wound. A wave of uncomfortable heat scorched her skin, and her hand trembled violently in her grasp. Hell bloomed under her skin, more blood seeping from her shoulder. A breathless gasp escaped her cracked lips as the bone blade pushed against the bullet penetrated deep within her muscles.

Tanker panicked at her side, his hands slapping the top of his skull wildly. "_A—A—Ameria!_ You need to stop—_wait_, what was that?"

Ameria's vision was blurry, all her senses seemed to be failing as the agony began to eat her away from the inside out.

Tanker then suddenly clung to her head, his scream only a whisper. "_Something's coming this way!_"

Then there was nothing.

* * *

Law watched as his feet dangled over the railing of his submarine, the gentle waves of the bay disappearing under the dock occupied by his crew. The sluggish men clad in boilersuits trudged up and down the wooden boards that creaked underfoot. Carrying the supplies they ordered two days prior, his crew hauled the crates, sacks and barrels up the gangplank and left them clustered on the deck for the time being.

The surgeon rested his calf against the opposing thigh to create a support for propping up his elbow. With his chin cradled in his hand, his steely grey eyes stared at the many ships alongside the Flevance. The mess of overlapping furled sails obscured the light coming from the rising sun, and the long shadows of seagulls danced over everything in sight. Law closed his eyes in hopes to drown out the shrieks of the rats with wings in the sky that fueled the small headache pounding against his forehead. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual due to the long night, and his body still felt sore. The long, but completely worth it, night.

He walked into the bar a frustrated man, but he came out a happy devil.

"_Captain._"

The harsh voice reeled him in quickly. Law slowly opened his eyes, his brows furrowed as he glanced over his shoulder and watched as the navigator stomped towards him.

Cleon crossed his arms over his chest with an aggravated huff, and there a stern expression that increased the wrinkles on his features. The navigator looked grouchier than he normally did in the morning, probably due to the fact that half of the crew was whining about working with hangovers. "The log's reset." He grunted. "We're ready to leave whenever, and I hope it's soon."

"When the minor dull in the back of my head begins to cease, Mister Cleon." Law mused, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

The sunlight reflected against the navigator's glasses to hide his dark glare. "How about now, Captain."

The surgeon returned with a scowl of his own, but then he turned his gaze away, rolling his eyes. "Fine, fine," he grumbled; he was too hungover to argue about authority with the navigator. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed his nodachi that leaned against the railing behind him. He was about to spin around and plant his feet on the solid ground of his deck, but there was a commotion at the docks that drew his attention. His gaze followed the sound of his men being pushed aside, their angry shouts being ignored as the bob of four familiar sets of hair drew closer.

The ginger from the previous night shoved her way through the mass of his crew, followed by three of her friends. They came to a grinding halt from their sprint, hands on their knees as they tried to regain their breath.

Then the ginger looked up at him, her emerald eyes wide with a sense of fear that matched the expression of the three women behind her. "_C—Captain Law!_" she stuttered through trembling lips. "Th—There's a problem…a really _big_ problem!"

Law frowned and instead of returning his feet to the deck, he leaped from his perch on the railing and landed with grace on the dock. "What's going on?" He asked as he adjusted his posture, resting his nodachi against his shoulder.

Autumn looked away nervously, biting the tip of one of her red painted fingernails. "My brothers snitched on me last night to our dad…" she stated, her emerald gaze slowly meeting his steely grey one, the deep shade of green filled with concern. "And he got mad. _Real mad_. So mad that he called the Marines! They'll be here any minute. You have to get out of here, _quick!_"

"_Hmm._" Law hummed, tapping his fingertips against the metal case of his blade. "I appreciate your concern, Miss Autumn…" then a nonchalant smirk came to his lips. "But I think my crew and I can handle the Marines. We did it while hungover before, so doing it again should be a little bit easier."

"But annoying as fuck," Shachi interjected.

"You don't understand!" She snapped, her fingers grasping her curly locks. "They—they are bringing a Rear Admiral here to do the job!"

Law's brows knotted together. _It couldn't be_, he thought, _could it?_ He didn't want to risk it and found out when it's too late that it was _him_. He turned to his men, hollering: "_Get moving!_ We leave within the next fifteen minutes!"

His crew scrambled with supplies as the surgeon stormed is way back on deck. But before he could even get there, he was stopped again. The medical assistant rushed to the submarine's railing, nearly falling over the edge when he didn't stop quickly enough.

The medical assistant balanced himself, his eyes wide. "W—Wait, Captain!" Brodie stuttered, his face pale. "Ameria never came back last night!"

* * *

"_Sir!_" The Marine saluted him, the spyglass still in his hand as he pressed it to his forehead.

The Rear Admiral approached the young recruit at the quarterdeck's railing, chuckling lightly as the recruit rubbed the red sore blooming on his skin. With a tiny blush, the young recruit cleared his throat and gathered his composure. He adjusted his cap that spelled out the words marines and then handed his superior the spyglass. The Rear Admiral graciously took it and then held it up to his eye, closing the other so he could have a peek at the pink horizon. In the distance, he saw a tiny shadow engulfed by the morning rays of the sun.

"The winds are on our side today, _Sir!_" The young recruit saluted him again. "We'll be there within twenty minutes, _Sir!_"

* * *

She woke to an odd sloshing noise beside her ear; it make her cringe. The sound continued and she felt something cold touch her heated forehead, the cool substance dripping down her skin.

"_Ugh…_" She groaned, her brows twitching violently as she struggled to open her eyes. Her vision was hazy and it made her head throb with pain. Shakily, she placed the heel of her left hand to her forehead. Her brows suddenly furrowed in confusion as she felt something wet and squishy.

A tiny whisper fluttered into her ear, so soft she could barely hear it.

Ameria moaned, rolling her head to the side to see who the gentle voice belonged to. It was Tanker. The noisy familiar sat beside her head, hovering over her like a mother hen. He had all four bony hands on her forehead, patting the washcloth to cool the unnatural warmth on her skin. Next to him was an old wooden bowl, the outer surface cracked and weathered. The noisy familiar would constantly dip the washcloth into the bowl, a bit of water splashing over the edge.

Then the noisy familiar wiped the cloth across her brow. "…ca…down…minor fever." Tanker's voice slowly got louder as she regained her senses. His tone was oddly quiet, but then his voice suddenly went harsh. "I told you _not_ to do it," he hooked all four hands to his hip bones and scowled at her. "You could have _died_. D.I.E.D: _died_. You know how lucky you are to have me here, and how lucky that he came along and helped us."

The washcloth fell from her forehead as she sat up, her puzzled expression instantly warping to pain when she moved her right shoulder. She grimaced, sweat on her brows as her left hand warily brushed against the fresh bandages covering the damaged skin.

"_He_," she stared down at her arm numbly laying at her side, a thoughtful glare in her blue eyes. "Who is _he?_" She pursed her lips, slightly concerned that Tanker so blindly trusted a stranger with her well-being.

Her eyes wandered, observing her surroundings. The space was dreary, only a few worn candles cast the shadows away with tiny dancing flames. She laid on a large stone slab with a thick cushion that was stained with blood. Glancing down, she saw that the white fabric of her tank top and a part of her jeans had turned just as red. Surprisingly, she noticed that her jacket was spared. Shnell had laid it over her for a makeshift blanket, the quiet familiar resting his skull against her thigh.

She grabbed her jacket and carefully put it on, both Tanker and Shnell helping her slip it over her wounded shoulder. Zipping the jacket up, she sighed, rubbing her neck full of kinks with her left hand. Then her eyes went wide.

Ameria didn't feel the thick chain against her skin. Panicked, she placed her left hand to her chest, patting down the empty space for something missing: her master's amulet.

Whipping her anxious gaze towards her noisy familiar, her mouth opened wide to shout, but she was cut off. Her eyes locked onto the amulet dangling before them.

"I borrowed this. I hope you don't mind, necromancer."

Ameria's eyes were drawn to the sound of the silky voice. A man stood partially in the shadows. He was paler than the moon, the skin of his face and neck stood out against his black robe. The ebony fabric was just short enough to reveal his silver gauntlets and shin guards that glimmered in the soft light of the candles. His black hair was shaggy, his bangs long and cast to the side so only one of his piercing blood red eyes were visible.

"I've seen this amulet before." The man continued with a curious tilt of his head. "My sister serves under the man that wears it. Apparently it's a tradition: from teacher to student."

Ameria nodded slowly, holding out her palms for the man to place her amulet. "It's my m—master's. I mean—" she blushed. "The amulet. Not your sister."

The man chuckled. "I would say it's the same thing." The man mused, a small smirk on his lips. "Now tell me, little necromancer, your name is Ameria, correct?"

She nodded again.

"My animations mentioned your familiar screamed that when they found you. I figured since we're now formally meeting for the first time, I should greet you properly." The spirit bowed gracefully before her. "I am the spirit known as An Amhránaí Bás," he then straightened his posture. "But my siblings have always called me Bas for short, feel free to do the same."

She pursed her lips. "Alright then…Bas," she eyed him somewhat cautiously. "You said something about your animations?"

"Yes," the spirit sighed, as he held out a hand, a dozen of little red crystals swirling above his armored palm. "My collection, my animations: they are the same thing. They are forged from the hearts of my prey. When I feel a disturbance within the barrier I send them out to collect. Usually they just bring me stupid fools, but tonight…they brought you."

"He was the one that got the bullet out of your shoulder." Tanker chimed in, wagging two bony fingers at her, both on separate hands. "I wouldn't have been able to fix you up if not for him. So, you better say thanks! To him, too."

Bas folded his fingers against his palm, the crystals disappearing. He then reopened it, rolling a little sphere of lead between his thumb and forefinger. "Strange how something so small can inflict so much trauma."

Ameria subconsciously touched her right shoulder, a frown on her lips. But she forced it away, pulling a smile to her expression. "Thank you for the help."

"Of course…" Bas nodded, but there was an odd gleam in his eyes as he added: "However, I would like to ask a favor in return."

Ameria eyed him warily. "And what's that?"

"You see, I'm stuck inside these walls due to the wards. I'm sure you have seen them." He paused, glancing towards her to see if she was following. When she nodded, he continued. "I have no way of getting out of here, and it's been a rather…long time. I prefer to be off this island, but I need a necromancer to do that."

Ameria shifted uncomfortably. "Are you going to," she gulped. "_Possess me?_"

Bas jerked his head back, a look of genuine surprise on his features. Then he threw his head back in laughter. "Of course not," he chuckled, wiping a stray tear from under his eye. "That is terribly barbaric. No, I ask that we make a pact, just as my sister is bound to your teacher. I believe this will be a loophole in the charm's ward." Bas then held out his hand. "Do you accept?"

Ameria pursed her lips, staring at the hand outstretched towards her. She was wary to make the deal; it could all be a ruse to be used. Yet, she didn't feel anything malicious from the spirit. There was just a longing in his crimson eyes to escape, to be free from this prison that bound him behind those wooden walls. As dangerous as it could be to let out a potentially murderous spirit, she nodded and delicately placed her left hand in his.

A smile came to the spirit's lips as he adjusted his grip on her hand so her palm was facing up. Then he dug the tip of his nail into her skin, drawing forth blood. Ameria winced and tried to pull back, but Bas held firm. By the power of his magic, the liquid iron began to pool upwards, the upside down red droplets clumping together in a hardened form that vaguely resembled a lopsided skull. The rough exterior then began to smooth out, crackling like a fire and sparks as the dried blood lost its pigment. The skull's surface then turned into smooth cartilage, the perfect image of a cranium hovering between them.

"The pact is complete." Bas's smile widened as the shadows around him began to morph, clinging to his person. The fabric of his robe fluttered in the midst of the flowing power, and the ebony locks of his hair danced. His crimson eyes had a wild gleam in them as he held onto her hand tightly. "_Now we leave._"

A black mass concealed his form, only red auras replacing where his eyes once were. There was an amused cackle as he watched her face go pale, and then the bone mage was swept off her feet. Her blood went cold. Her limbs froze. Her body barely registered the grip around her neck as her two familiars clung to her for dear life. She witnessed the destructive power of the spirit as her feet got further away from the ground. Debris slowly poured back into the pit created in the ground and she gulped, feeling her grip grow weaker.

Something gave her balance though, her body resting atop a bed of feathers in the sky. They were shadowy, and felt like silk between her fingers as she sat upon the back of a large bird. The shadow bird's head turned to face her, the detail features distinguished the bird to be a crow. Beady red eyes stared at her. "_Are you alright?"_ It was the spirit's voice.

Numbly, she nodded.

Bas eyed the situation, watching as the noisy familiar shrieked that the top of his lungs—if he had any—and the quiet familiar trembled just as violently as the bone mage. Though, he did not press with any more questions and instead turned his attention back to the horizon. The sun was barely over the distant water's edge, the sky still littered with stars. The spirit's wings grew more powerful with each stroke he took, but then he came to a grinding halt.

It was like a glass wall was placed before him, and he rammed full speed into nothing.

There were stars and coo-coo birds swimming around his noggin and he plummeted to the ground. Branches snapped under his weight, loose leaves fluttering to the ground, but it didn't help when he smeared his beak through the dirt.

Ameria was thrown off the spirit's feathered back when he collided with the ground. She then landed on her right shoulder, a sharp spike coursing through her skin. She screeched in agony, clutching her wounded arm.

Bas shed the feathers from his form, the shadows seeping under the soles of his boots. He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehand as his balanced staggered. He spit a clump of dirt out of his mouth and gagged: "The barrier…is still active?" His brows furrowed in deep thought, but he was drawn from his pondering when he saw the bone mage wallowing in pain. The spirit rushed to her side, gently helping her to her feet.

Ameria stumbled, still clutching her shoulder. Her cheeks were stark white, body trembling.

Tanker pulled back the fabric covering her shoulder, his little hands applying pressure gently. "It doesn't seem the wounds reopened…" the noisy familiar mumbled under his breath as he inspected the clean bandages. Then his attention snapped towards the spirit, the red aura in his eyes sockets narrowing sharply. "What's the big idea, pal?" he pointed an accusing finger towards Bas and he hooked his remaining three hands to his hip bones. "You scheming something,_ huh, huh?_ You trying to kill her so you can scamper off, _huh, huh?!_"

Bas glared at the noisy familiar in annoyance. "Of course not." He rolled his eyes, but then his harsh expression twisted to concern as he cradled his chin with his fingers. "The barrier still seems to be active… Maybe," he shook a finger in thought. "Maybe it's because I am not in the vessel."

When the item was called forth, Shnell fiddled with the loose fabric of his robes and pulled out the vessel. The quiet familiar then held it out to the spirit.

Bas placed a hand upon the skull. Then in the blink of an eye, the spirit's form transformed into shadows that were sucked into the vessel. The skull then hovered with magic, a devilish green fire engulfing the vessel's form, its eye sockets filled with a dark violet aura. "Let us continue on foot then." The spirit's voice came forth.

Ameria frowned, her eyes warily scanning the dark surroundings. "People are still after me…"

The vessel turned to her, a curious gleam in the violet aura. "I_ assume you mean the men that shot you. Don't worry about them," the spirit chuckled mischievously. "Those men aren't fit for my collection, but even my animations need an honest workout. Now, come along,_" he continued and started to drift away, the light from the vessel illuminating the trees.

A bead of sweat trickled down Ameria's cheek. Though, she shook off any thoughts of mild pity and followed the floating vessel. Bas easily guided her through the woods, the dark shadows of night slowly disappearing as the sun began to rise higher into the sky. The light of morning cast a bright ray upon the wall's entrance when they approached it, almost as if the gods were beaming down a spotlight from the heavens.

_Craack!_

Then the peaceful sight shattered when something kicked open the gate with a mighty amount of force. The birds were disturbed from their perches in the treetops, flying in a shrieking mess through the dust cloud and splinters.

"**BRRRRRRAT!**"

Ameria's eyes opened wide when she heard the familiar tone and then the blonde mechanic emerged from the plume of dust.

There was a furious scowl on his features as he grabbed a hold of her jacket's collar, shaking her violently. "_OI!_" Nigel hissed viciously. "This is where you were the entire time? You damn, idiotic brat!"

She opened her mouth to explain, but she was cut off when the two head mechanics appeared behind the blonde mechanic.

"We don't got time for this!" Shachi snapped, slapping a hand to the blonde mechanic's shoulder. "The Marines are coming and we need to hightail it out of here!"

Nigel scoffed in annoyance, but didn't argue. He changed his hold on the bone mage, his hand firmly on her wrist and he pulled her along as they all made a break for the exit. However, the sprint was cut short when the blonde mechanic was suddenly jerked backward. He and Ameria stumbled backwards, and the two head mechanics' heels ground to a halt when they noticed the delay.

"Quit foolin' around!" Shachi barked, stomping his foot to the ground.

Penguin scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. "There'll be hell to pay if that Rear Admiral comes before we leave."

Nigel whipped around and growled at the bone mage, his blue eyes beaming with pointed blame that pierced her. Again, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her roughly. Yet, she didn't go anywhere. His jaw hung open as he witnessed the bone mage in an odd dilemma.

She was slammed against something quite invisible to the naked eye. Her form smashed against something that appeared to be glass, but not a single barrier blocked him or his mates.

Nigel blinked, exchanging worried looks between the head mechanics before he muttered: "Da fuck?"

"_Hmm…_" Bas then appeared from behind her, a perplexed expression in the aura of his eyes. The spirit ignored the baffled looks of the mechanics, and he frowned deeply. "_I seem to have made a miscalculation in this plan… we're both stuck in here now._"

* * *

The thunder of their feet pounded against the ground as they ran, a cloud of dust at their heels. Law was in a foul mood due to the Marines approaching over the horizon and his crew was unsuccessful in finding the missing bone mage. The throbbing against his skull was increasing with each stride he took. Law was at his wit's end, but luckily his first mate had mentioned that the three stooges had gone off to check the woods inland and had yet to return. With the news, the surgeon took off to the woods along with Bepo and Jean Bart.

His pace quickened when they reached the treeline, the cobblestone street turning into a dusty road. His brows furrowed with rage and he stormed towards the entrance of a broken gate when he saw in the distance the mechanics and the runaway culprit. The polar bear had trouble keeping up with the surgeon's stride, panting heavily as the sweaty white fur of his cheeks bounced wildly. Jean Bart grunted in annoyance as he started to fall behind, the muscular man's skin rippling with veins has he pushed his older body to keep up with the young.

Law's heels screeched to a halt, barely out of breath compared to the two behind him that were winded. The surgeon's knuckles were ghostly white as his grasp tightened on his nodachi resting against his shoulder. The dark shadow across his steely eyes hardened and he opened his mouth with a few choice words at the tip of his tongue, yet nothing came out.

Just like yesterday, his bone mage rendered him speechless.

His knotted brows shot up to the brim of his hat as he saw the puzzling scene before him. He took a cautious step forward next to Shachi, the ginger scratching the back of his head as he watched Nigel pull on the collar of Ameria's jacket with all his might, but she did not move. She clutched her right arm close to her side as she was dragged forward, her body pressed against the nothingness of air. The blonde mechanic's heels were making trenches in the dirt and foul curses escaped his lips as he made no progress. Penguin then stepped behind the bone mage, experimentally nudging her left shoulder and still she would not move.

The surgeon exchanged a bewildered look with Penguin, but the head mechanic merely shrugged.

Law felt the throbbing against his forehead intensify as he rubbed his temple. Not even his mind wanted to fathom what had happened. The surgeon sighed and placed a hand to the blonde mechanics shoulder, pulling him back before he inflicted any more trauma upon the bone mage's head. Law inspected the situation himself, a hand stroking the small patch of hair on his chin in thought. Balancing his nodachi carefully in the crook of his, his hand hovered above her head. It moved back and forth with easy, not a shred of resistance whatsoever. Yet, he could see by the bone mage's hat that it was like she was leaning against glass.

Another sigh was drawn from his lips and he looked up to the sky. He replaced a hand back to steady his nodachi and he shoved the other into his pocket. Then he groaned. "I'm too hungover to be dealing with your shit, Miss Bones." He closed his eyes, his brow twitching violently. "What the fuck did you do?"

Instead of Ameria, Nigel replied. "She made a deal with a demon." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Now she's stuck here for all eternity."

Law's eyes opened wide, his attention snapping away from the sky towards the hovering green glowing skull the bone mage tucked under her arm. He didn't even notice that thing when he arrived.

Ameria held the item protectively in her arm, scowling at the blonde mechanic. "I already told you Bas is not a demon, he's a spirit." She retorted. "You're making it sound like I sold my soul to a devil."

Nigel shrugged. "Basically the same thing."

"It's _not_." She hissed, her glare razor sharp. The skull in her arm then whispered something softly, the bone mage quietly nodded as she undid the zipper of her jacket, Shnell peeking out to collect the item before disappearing again.

Curiosity didn't have time to bite his ass because the surgeon was too aggravated to care. Law pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the bundle of skin. "Well, that explains why you're trapped," he grumbled. "But what in the world possessed you to come here in the first place?"

Ameria's hardened expression melted away, her cheek draining of all color. "It was all a trap, Captain!" She shouted, pressing her left hand to the invisible wall. "Those girls in the bar last night were just decoys so they could capture me and turn me into the Marines for the bounty!"

"_What!?_" Penguin gasped, throwing his hands to his head in frustration. "You're telling us this now? What is wrong with you?"

"_Ugh!_" Shachi slapped his cheeks, his fingers pulling at the tan skin. "I knew it was too good to be true!"

"I know, right." Nigel scoffed and folded his arms over his chest. "Any girl that has sex with you _must_ have a motive."

"_S—Shuddup, Nigel, you fuckin' fatty asshole!_"

"…" Ameria's concerned expression fell to a dull look as she stared at them, but then her cheeks boiled up with a temperature that stained her skin a deep shade of red. She stomped her foot to the ground. "_You all had sex with them!_"

Law shrugged his shoulders, a nonchalant look upon his features as he casually said: "After you, in layman's terms, were as stubborn as an ass yesterday, who wouldn't be stressed enough to fuck a stranger."

"_Ouch._"

"That gotta hurt."

"Super burn."

The heat in her cheeks died down as Ameria closed her eyes in annoyance. "Let me rephrase that…" she murmured, taking a deep breath in and out. Then the red in cheeks returned as she hollered in a high-pitched tone: "_You guys has sex with the girls that were decoys for their friends so they could capture and or kill me!_"

Shachi scratched the back of his head, a bead of sweat trickling down his cheek. "When you put it like that…"

"_Blah,_" Nigel huffed, tossing the matter aside with a wave of his hand. "She's overreacting."

Bepo, who had been silently watching with Jean Bart behind the group, spoke up. "I think she has a right to be mad."

"Shut up, Bepo." Nigel snapped. "No one asked you."

Bepo's head hung low. "_I'm sorry…_"

"No, Bepo's right." Jean Bart defended the bear. "You guys weren't aware of the situation and something happened."

"Bart is hitting the nail on the head for this one!" Ameria flicked her left hand towards the muscular man. "I was standing right outside Little Snitch and guess what they did. Guess what they did. They _shot_ at me!" She hugged her right arm to her chest as she pivoted on her heel, and her back faced the group as she continued her spiteful rant. "They _shot_ at me with a _gun_, and not one of you even thought: _oh what could that be?_ No of course not, you are busy getting laid by the decoy, the _decoy!_"

The four men accused of the blame tried not to pay attention, knowing full well that they were guilty.

"I wouldn't even be in this mess if you guys had paid an ounce of attention to your surroundings. You're supposed to be a Supernova crew, in the New World, and you fall for the most cliché of cliché traps of all time! 'Cause of you guys, I got chased at gunpoint into these woods and shot in the—"

Shachi perked up, his brows peeking over the frames over his shades. "You got shot?" He inquired with a frown. "Like, _legit_ shot?"

Law's attention darted from the treetops and toward the bone mage, watching her freeze up. His eyes narrowed when he finally noticed that she had been delicate with her right arm, so delicate that she didn't dare move it once. He stormed over to her, his hand peeling away the white fabric to reveal the bandages. His fingers brushed against the gauze that was strained with tiny droplets of fresh blood. He bit his lip, trembling with rage.

"_Captain._" Jean Bart's voice broke Law from his crimson trance. The muscular man then placed a hand to the surgeon's shoulder. "We don't have time to plot revenge. The Marines will be here soon and we need to figure out how to get Ameria out of this…_thing._" He motioned to the unseen barrier between the walls.

"_Shit,_" Law cursed, closing his eyes in thought. Then an idea struck; he grabbed the bone mage's hand. His slender fingers covered the back of her hand, his own guiding her palm to the invisible wall. Then he took a step back, a spinning aura appearing in his open palm. "_Room._"

The blue transparent sphere of his Devil Fruit covered the space between him and the bone mage, and he unsheathed his nodachi from its case. The long blade gleamed in the light of morning as he plunged it into the nothingness. There was a reaction, sparks flying as his blade struggled to slice through the unknown. A multicolored tear rippled along the edges of his blade, and the surgeon steadied his stance as he began to pry apart the barrier.

The area around the tear was cloudy, fogging up from the pressure. The tear framed a window to the clearness of the day, a tiny hole that could be jumped through. "_Miss Bones._" The surgeon ground through his teeth, his stance staggering.

Ameria nodded and crawled through the hole, Penguin and Shachi helping her through the opening.

The surgeon hissed as he removed the blade, the tear zipping back up with a heated reaction. Black rust formed along the invisible wall, leaving a visible seam that burned the barrier. His crew stared at the spectacle in shock.

Law sheathed his nodachi, a scowl on his features. "Stop gawking!" The surgeon barked, shoving his weapon to Bepo's chest. "To Flevance! _Now!_" Then he scooped up Ameria in his arms, making her squeal in shock.

Law led the charge back to the submarine, clutching his wounded bone mage close to his chest. Then on the horizon a small fleet drifted closer to the island and men picked up speed. They sprinted down the dock, the wooden boards trembling beneath the thunder of their feet. The four women that came to warn them of the Marines were startled at the sight. The women tried to flag down the pirates, a certain ginger looking incredibly upset.

Law grunted when Ameria shifted suddenly in his grasp, and a shrill shriek broke the bay's waters. The surgeon harshly readjusted his hold on her and then gracefully leapt from the dock to the submarine's deck with the rest of his men.

"Get ready now!" Law ordered his men, the pirates scurrying to fulfill their duties.

Then Law paused for a brief moment as he stood behind the railing, his brow wrinkled. Ameria looked over his shoulder, but he definitely noticed that she nuzzled her cheek against his neck. He glanced down at her, and saw she was sticking her tongue out at the dock.

His brow rose. "Having fun?"

Ameria blinked when she was caught, but she didn't break character and snuggled her chin against the warm fabric of his hoodie. "Revenge is sweet when simple."

* * *

The Rear Admiral rested the palm of his hand against the sliver of black rust that sprouted from the ground. He pushed the strange piece of metal, trying to knock it over, but it wouldn't budge a single inch despite how thin it was. _Interesting_, he thought as he leaned his back against it, finding the object to be rather sturdy.

He crossed his arms, his grey eyes watching as the group of recruits tried to calm a group of young men that were sobbing with fear in their wide eyes. They screamed that Bones had released a demon into the world and said demon's minions chased them around the wall for an hour.

The Rear Admiral stroked his chin in thought. "A _demon…?_" he mumbled aloud, his brows furrowed in slight concern.

"Seems like we just missed them." Abigail sighed, her finger rubbing a small circle around her temple. "Five more minutes and we would have gotten them."

The worried expression of the Rear Admiral's lightened as he chuckled. "At least things are getting more interesting, Miss Abigail." Then he looked up at the sky, a smile on his lips. "Oh, Law…what else are you going to run into?"


	8. Chapter 8

#  **Sparrows**

_Tick._

_Tick._

_Tick._

The tiny cartilage heels clicked against the metal were like the seconds of a clock. Tanker's legs swung back and forth, back and forth; repeatedly hitting the desk's side. The vibrations were large enough to make Shnell's little body jump with each beat, which continually interrupted the small familiar who polished the cranium if the inactive spirit's vessel with a tiny red rag.

Then the surgeon's hand lashed out, snatching Tanker's ankles firmly in his grasp. Law sent Tanker a warning glare before returning to Ameria's injury.

Law sat in the desk's chair with Ameria on a stool before him. She was pulled close, her seat parked between his thighs so he could easily operate upon her wound with the power of his Devil Fruit. The translucent blue sphere engulfed her right shoulder, and the surgeon's hand brushed against her damaged skin. He mentally noted the tension in her muscles, and he watched her purse her lips and her brow twitch uncontrollably. Law felt Brodie's piercing glare bore a hole into the back of his skull.

When Law heard her sharp intake of breath, he pulled away before Brodie could utter a single word. Then he blinked, his steely grey eyes staring at her bare shoulder.

"_Hmm?_" Law hummed in thought as his fingers probed the patch of undamaged and unblemished skin. "It's healed already…"

Tanker's four boney hands shot up, and he giddily hopped up and down on the desk. "Thanks to _meeee!_" His fingers wiggled enthusiastically and he beamed with a proud grin. "Thanks to_ meee_ and my _alchameeeeyy!_ So, praise _meeeee!_"

Law's eyes glanced towards the noisy familiar briefly before returning his gaze back to the bone mage. "Anyway—"

Tanker's skull dropped and he sulked, grumbling curses under his breath while little Shnell pat his older brother on the back in comfort.

Law leaned back in his chair and propped his elbow up on the armrest. "—Rather lucky we don't have to waste three days of short sessions," Law continued with a smirk. "Since the operation finished sooner than expected, Miss Bones…" and then he trailed off, snapping his fingers.

In the space of his Room, the orange bucket suddenly appeared in the blink of an eye and hovered above her lap. Then with another snap of his fingers, the transparent sphere disappeared and the bucket dropped. Ameria yelped, barely managing to catch the bucket, and she hugged it close to her chest as a plume of dust billowed upward in her face. She coughed and then knitted her brows together, opening her mouth to protest, but the surgeon put a single finger to her lips.

"Not a peep." Law cut her off with a cold glare. "No repeats of yesterday."

Ameria frowned, a miserable mien upon her features. Yet, she did as she was told and said not a peep.

"Well," Law waved a hand toward the bucket.

Silently, Ameria grabbed a handful of dust before placing the bucket on the floor between their feet.

Law observed her progress, his elbow propped up on the armrest and his cheek pressed against his knuckles. The soft grey aura coated Ameria's hands as she cradled the dust in her palms, the delicate substance swirling around until it formed a skeleton crouched in her hands. The animation slowly rose, twirling around so the surgeon could inspect the quality. The skeleton was larger than the miniatures she was making the other day, and no unnecessary accessories added.

Law steely grey eyes glanced between the animation and the bone mage, an irritated crease forming along his brow. With his free hand, he reached forward and easily snapped the animation's vertebrae in half.

Ameria pressed her lips together into a thin line, resisting the urge to say anything. She took a deep breath in and then out, putting the energy towards making a new animation to suit the surgeon's taste.

However, the cycle continued: remake, _snap_, remake, _snap_. Over and over.

Ameria flinched each new cycle, her cheeks bristling a darker shade of crimson with each failed try. "S—_Stop that!_" She finally snapped, throwing her hands up in the air so the dust rained down on their shoulders. Then she slammed the sides of her fists to her thighs, and her shoulders trembled. "I'll never learn what I'm doing wrong if you don't tell me!"

Law sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Miss Bones, you are aware that the human bone can withstand up to seven hundred pounds before breaking, correct? Not counting certain conditions where the force is applied in the right place. I assume the point of your magic is to make bones—even if it's just cartilage—from dust and it will be the same as or stronger than actual human bone. What you are making is pitiful and could never defend you in battle."

Ameria scoffed, offended by his words. "No necromancer could make an animation for battle with _these_ dust bunnies!"

"That sounds like a personal problem," Law smirked brazenly.

The shade of red on her cheeks darkened in hue, her skin glowing violently, and steam roared from her ears.

"Now," Law ignored her demeanor. "It's up to you to make these dust bunnies better."

Ameria closed her eyes, the rise and fall of her chest settling down as she forced herself to remain calm. Then with a look of determination crossing her blue eyes, she grabbed another handful of dust from the bucket on the floor. She pressed her palms together, hiding the substance within the grey aura.

Her short ebony locks fluttered from her shoulder, waving in an unseen breeze. Her mind focused on her hands as they slowly opened. The dust burst into mist, the hum of wings dispersing the cloud so a tiny flock of skeletal sparrows were revealed. The little animations spiraled around her, their little wings grazing against the skin of her bare arms. She swayed back and forth, trying to avoid the ticklish touches that caused her to giggle. A warm smile came to her lips as the little sparrows landed upon her shoulders, the spirited animations singing a bright melody and harmony. The little sparrows were lively on their perch, playing hide and seek among her ebony locks as they chirped in her ears.

"Sometimes you have to make do with what you have." She replied softly, her eyes halfway closed as she brushed the side of her finger against the ribcage of a little sparrow that chirped with pleasure. "With dust bunnies like this, you can't fight because the odds are against you. So, making something tiny and light that can do recon for stealth is a better option. Dust like this is perfect for birds because they have hollow bones."

Law leaned forward with a satisfied smile, genuinely amused by her response. He had noticed briefly that she could be rather tactical when she kept a level head. It was a good trait to have, but she needed to hone in on it more.

He watched the lively sparrows dance upon his giddy bone mage's shoulders, and he was surprised to see how something so small could make her look so…_happy_. Law's body moved on its own, and he reached out his hand, gingerly brushing aside a stray lock of her ebony hair from her cheek.

Ameria's eyes fluttered open wide at the soft touch, blinking rapidly as Law's hand tucked the lock behind her ear. A pink blush came to her cheeks and she glanced away sheepishly when everyone present in the room stared at the scene like a bright spotlight on a dark stage. Tanker's jaw unhinged and fell to the ground with a large clatter; for once the noisy familiar rendered speechless. Shnell dropped the rag in his hand, the red auras in his eye sockets flickering like a broken bulb. And Brodie leaned away from the counter where he was organizing drawers, his interest piqued like his eyebrows.

Then Law pressed his forefinger against her collarbone for one of the little sparrows that hid partially behind her neck. The animation peeked out its skull, the sparrow curiously hopping down to cling to his finger.

Law smirked and moved his hand to his shoulder, allowing the sparrow a new place to rest. Then he looked back to his bashful bone mage. "As a pirate, I always wanted a parrot."

Ameria stared at him, dumbfounded. Then her eyes lit up, twinkling like blue stars and she brightly grinned. "You look very good with a parrot!" She laughed, and the little skeletal sparrows upon her shoulders chirped happily in agreement. "Especially an undead one! It's perfect for the Surgeon of Death!"

"You think so?" Law mused, glancing at the sparrow on his shoulder, and he saw the tiny animation puffing out its sternum in pride.

"Of course so," Ameria giggled, reaching out to pat the proud little sparrow's skull with her fingertip.

Law's amused smirk softened just a tad at the corners, his lips resting in a light smile as he watched her fondly.

"_Ah-hah-hem._"

Law's eyes flickered to the side, and his coy expression darken when he noticed the curious look in Brodie's blue eyes.

"Now, _exuuuuuuuuse_ me?" Tanker suddenly regained his voice, startling the sparrows with his boisterous tone, and the little birdys ducked behind Ameria's curly hair. Tanker's red auras narrowed into two dangerous slits at Law, and the noisy familiar jabbed a bony finger at the surgeon's nose. "What in the million-billion hells do you think you're doing to her, _you scoundrel?! **Scoundrel!** _Don't defile her with your touch! You hands reek of _death!_ They say it literally!"

Law found himself actually looking down at his tattooed fingers, which caused a vein of irritation to pulse against his brow and a swarm of heat to burn the back of his ears. Abruptly, Law stood up and grabbed Tanker by the ankle bone, which made the familiar flail his four arms wildly and screech at the top of his lungs—if he had any. With a swift pivot on his heel, Law closed the gap between himself and his bemused medical assistant in two large steps. Law grabbed Brodie by the scruff of his collar and yanked him to the door.

Brodie grunted when he was pushed into the hallway and then flinched when the screaming familiar was chucked at his chest. Before the medical assistant had a chance to speak, the metal door slammed shut in his face.

"Rather _nosy_, aren't they?" Law scoffed as he returned to his seat and scooted closer to her again, the wheels of his chair gently squeaking against the metal floor.

Ameria blinked, shrinking in her seat when he parked her between his thighs again.

The heat on Law's ears burned brighter, but he remained calm. "I was trying to segue into a conversation about how…_unique_ your mind is, Miss Bones."

Ameria's eyes opened wide, her sheepish demeanor melting away with an aura of curiosity. "R—Really?"

"_Mhm,"_ Law hummed. "I believe_ I_ learned a little something new with this session. I would never have taken into account that the _quality_ of the dust mattered. I assumed magic naturally made it stronger. If that was the case…I would have given you more props on creativity with what you were given."

The look of pride on her face made Ameria fidget in her seat, a giddy grin on her lips as one of the little sparrows fluttered into her open hand. "My animations might look a little lopsided and cartoonish, but it's always been easier for me to create from my imagination than from textbook memory. My Master encouraged me to do that, but…" and then she trailed off, her brightness fading as she frowned. "...the proctors didn't feel the same when I took tests."

Her dreary demeanor was infectious, and Law found himself frowning as well. "Rather closed-minded of them," he told her, reaching for her hand so he could gently pluck the little sparrow from her palm. "I realize I have been far too harsh with you without knowing more, but now I see that your method allows flexibility and adaptations depending on the situation. It also explains why your animations are made with cartilage and not collagen," and he poked the sparrow's rubbery skull. "Cartilage is still a sturdy substance, but not as strong. Is it possibly faster to create with magic?"

Ameria tilted her head to the side. "C…_Collagen?_"

Law blinked. "...Is what bones are primarily made out of, Miss Bones."

Ameria's cheeks flushed bright red and she glanced away.

Law felt a bead of sweat form on his brow. "You are the type of student that day-dreams during lectures, aren't you."

Ameria sheepishly nodded. "Master was a good and understanding teacher, but his lectures were very boring."

Law sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Maybe textbooks aren't the best idea…"

"Sorry…" Ameria frowned, fiddling with the hem of her shirt with a sad gleam in her eyes. "Master knew I wasn't good with textbooks and lectures, n' he tried to find different ways to help me learn…"

"_Hmm…_" Law hummed in thought, gently brushing the stubble on his chin with his fingertips. "Your teacher taught you exactly how to make animations, correct?"

Ameria solemnly nodded. "I had a lot of trouble…"

Law crossed his arms over his chest, nodding to himself. "…I think _that_ will be our next goal, Miss Bones, but I don't have any…" and then he trailed off, grumbling under his breath with a deep wrinkle in his brow.

Then the surgeon's concentration was broken when the door creaked open and Brodie popped his head in through the crack.

"I'll be good," the medical assistant stated sheepishly. "I need to finish my work."

Law stared at Brodie, narrowing his steely grey eyes. He stared for a solid minute, the gears visibly turning in his head, but then he shook his head. "No, no, not a good idea," he grumbled, which confused the medical assistant. Law waved his previous comment aside with a flick of his wrist and then he addressed Brodie. "It's fine, go ahead."

Brodie slinked quietly into the room, closing the metal door slowly. "I put Tanker in your room," he told Ameria. "He said he'd give you an earful later."

Ameria sighed wearily, her shoulders drooping as Brodie walked over to pat her back and then he returned to organizing the new supplies within the cabinets.

Law's knees gently tapped Ameria's thighs as he swiveled in his seat, deep in thought. His gaze travelled toward the tiny familiar that polished the vessel with the small red rag. Leaning over, Law experimentally pinched Shnell's little tibia between his fingers. The bone was sturdy, but had a slight rubbery texture when he applied enough pressure. It was compacted cartilage that only looked like a bone in appearance. Then Law grabbed the vessel's mandible, gently squeezing the bone. It was very solid like collagen, yet it was far sturdier than any jawbone he ever touched.

"_This_ is made of collagen, and what else…?" Law inquired, rapping his fingertips against the vessel's smooth cranium.

Ameria fidgeted in her seat. "M—My blood…" she answered softly. "It's…high level magic. I didn't make it though… Bas did."

"_Hmph,_" Law grunted, grabbing the vessel from Shnell's tiny fingers and placed it on the desk in front of Ameria. "Regardless, make a skull."

Ameria's brow wrinkled, but she did as she was told. The tiny flock of skeletal sparrows turned to a misty cloud of fine dust before clumping together into a matching skull that rested beside the spirit's vessel. The skulls were both the same musty brown hue, but Law instructed Ameria to_ feel_ the difference between the two.

"My skull is _squishy!_" She gasped, her eyes opening wide as she pressed a hand to each cranium.

"_Rubbery,_" Law corrected. "Cartilage is still strong, like your nose, for example," and the surgeon proved his point by grabbing her nose and wiggling it slightly. "But it's far easier to break than collagen, which is why a single punch to the face can break your nose, but not a bone. It takes more force to break a bone. Of course, this will depend on the strength of an individual."

Ameria pursed her lips and nodded her head. "I…I think I had trouble making bones sturdy when I was little, which is probably why Master instructed me to make them this way. I had an easier time after he told me to do that."

"I figured as much," Law replied. "But that was when you were a child, Miss Bones…"

Ameria looked up, a hopeful gleam in her bright blue eyes. "Do you think I can improve if I try hard enough?"

"It's not about if you can," Law answered, smirking slyly. "Because you _will_ learn since I will make sure you learn."

The twinkle in her blue eyes vanished and she stared at him like a wide-eyed doe, and her cheeks drained of all color. "_Oh no…_"

"Oh yes, Miss Bones," Law purred. "_Oh. Yes._"

* * *

The seagulls cried over the bustling port city, and the sweet scent of civilization harmonized with the aroma of sea salt. Ameria strolled across the deck, the _ticks_ of her heels rapping against the wooden boards as she raised her hands high over head to arch her back.

_By Mortalitas_, she inwardly groaned, _my back is killing me_.

The crew had been tucked away deep beneath the waves in the submarine for weeks. She didn't know how the men could handle the constricting state for days on end, but the warm sensation from the sun against her cheeks was so refreshing that she couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"You look as free as a sparrow, Miss Bones."

Goosebumps crawled along her skin, and she yelped when she felt the whisper against the shell of her ear. Ameria whipped around and faced her amused captain. A bead of sweat appeared on her brow and she took a step back, creating distance between them.

Ameria had spent too much time with Law in the sickbay, mercilessly practicing necromancy under his guidance. It was still baffling that a man who probably didn't believe in magic a few months ago was training her, but his medical knowledge was limitless, and the excellent surgeon was helping her bit by bit. However, she felt like she needed a solid break from practice and also the surgeon, but he thought differently.

Law shuffled forward, closing the gap between them. Then he adjusted the hold on his nodachi as he scanned the port, and his gaze lingered on something in the distance; a galleon among the hundreds anchored at the dock.

"_Hmm._" He pursed his lips. "This could be interesting…"

Ameria tilted her head to the side. "What?" She asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Law shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Miss Bones." He reassured her with a small smile and then he shifted the conversation. "I have a task for you. I'm sure there's a bookstore on this island and I want you to try and find the latest text by the Tulip," he said and handed her the beli.

Ameria shifted on her heels. "Is is supposed to help me study…?"

"No," Law shook his head. "The books I lent you should be enough for your studies. This is to shut Mister Brodie up. He's been irritating me as of late…"

Ameria eyed him with a peculiar look, but didn't question him. Instead, she quietly did as she was asked, pocketing the money and then travelled into the port city. The streets were crowded as she wandered down many roads, scanning the signs of every store. She even peeked through windows for a bookstore, but all she found was fishmongers and blacksmiths. Disappointed, she turned on her heel to return to the submarine empty handed.

Then she accidentally bumped into someone as she turned around. "_Oof_," she blinked. "Sorry 'bout that," she apologized, stepping back to give the stranger some space.

The man stared down at her with a dull look in his sleepy eyes, but he said nothing in response. He didn't even move. Instead he retrieved a deck of cards from his ivory coat's pocket, and despite the blank expression in his eyes, his hands lively shuffled the cards. Then he removed the card at the top and held it up, inspecting it thoroughly. The lazy look in his eyes warped to shock as he witnessed the card burst into copper flames.

Ameria blinked, watching as the man dropped the fiery card, the thin paper fluttering to the ground in ashes.

The man shook his gloved hand to remove specks of black powder and declared: "That is a bad omen."

"**What!?**"

The words triggered the group of men nearby, one of them jabbing an accusing finger toward Ameria.

"_You will cause havoc upon Captain with your touch! We must protect him from the prediction!_"

The captain tried to speak up, but his voice was drowned out by the angry murmur of his crew. Then with a wave of his hand, he cast aside the matter, and Ameria could have sworn she saw the captain mouth the words: you will be sorry.

Then the clatter of steel pierced through the sound waves as the men unsheathed sabers, daggers and swords from their cases. Ameria's eyes opened wide and with a snap of her grey-glowing fingers, a plume of dust turned into a web of disjointed bones. The men screeched in shock within the musty cloud as the bone mage bolted, but she still felt the thunderous stampede draw closer. The plumes of dust from the dirt roads drifted past the aura of grey of her hands as she ducked into an alley. As a man rounded the corner, he screamed in terror when he was assaulted by three skeletons that popped from the shadows. The number of heavy footsteps following her diminished, but she couldn't shake the entire quake.

Ameria pursed her lips, her mind pumping with ideas just as much as the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She was _extremely_ close to the submarine, but she needed to lose the rest of the angry pack behind her. At this point, she _wanted_ to show up empty-handed. She reached into the folds of her jacket, feeling the smooth collagen surface of the vessel against her fingertips.

**Bang!**

**Bang!**

**Bang!**

**Bang!**

Her heels skidded to a halt when she heard gunshots, and she slid to the ground instinctively to dodge. The flash of the flint illuminated against the shadowed brick walls, and the rapid succession of lead popped from the gun's barrel. The last remaining men behind her crumbled to the ground, groaning in agony as they clutched fresh red patches that stained their clothing.

Ameria sat on the ground, a long shadow looming over her body, and she felt her blood run cold when the bullet-casings scattered around her feet. Then slowly, she looked up to see a familiar face.

Eustass _Captain_ Kidd twirled the revolver around his trigger finger, the plume of smoke following the pattern. Then as if on second nature, the infamous redhead reloaded his weapon without batting an eyelash and with a sly smirk on his red painted lips that reached the dangerous gleam in his dark amber eyes.

Ameria froze, waiting impatiently for what was going to happen next as she felt little Shnell move with the spirit's vessel against her side. Surprisingly, Kidd holstered his revolver with a grunt. Yet, the devil's grin remained on his lips as he took a step forward and swiftly grabbed her by the collar of her jacket. He hoisted her to her feet, but his grasp remained firm. Ameria could see the vessel from the corner of her eye, but she wasn't confident about her speed. If she was riddled with anymore bullets, she would die from lead poisoning.

"Did your voodoo freak out Hawkins?" Kidd mused, a deep chuckle resonating from his throat. "It's creepy as all hell, but shouldn't be enough to scare a man like him unless his little cards told him otherwise. Moronic, am I right?"

Ameria was silent, her gaze cast to the ground.

"I think the only one that's freaked out is her, Kidd." Another familiar tone retorted. The Massacre Machine known as Killer stepped from the shadows behind his captain, his arms crossed over his chest. "You scared her shitless."

"_Tch,_" Kidd scoffed, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "You'd think she'd be grateful I saved her ass," but then a smirk crossed his lips once more and his grip on her collar slipped around her shoulders. The redhead pulled her to his side, giving her a good view of the revolver and dagger attached to the bandolier strung across his bare chest. "As a sign of appreciation, why dontcha ya answer some pending questions I'd like ta have answered…" and then he started to walk down the alley.

Ameria didn't struggle; she felt playing along with what the redhead wanted was the best way to survive.

Arriving upon his desired destination, Kidd kicked open the door to a shady little pub that held his crew within. The inside stank of cheap beer, rotten sweat and old nicotine. Fear lingered in the smoggy air as one little corner of the seedy bar was occupied with local patrons that were brave enough to stay or too terrified to leave while Kidd's crew remained.

With a few long strides, Kidd was at a table in the middle of his rowdy crew and he pushed Ameria into the seat before he bunkered down himself. Killer took the chair on the other side of her, leaving her sandwiched between the two. The rugged men that sat around the circular table looked away from a large sea chart spread out on the wooden surface, eyeing her curiously. Though, their interest dissolved quickly as they went back to their planning.

Kidd grabbed a pint of beer that was placed before him by a speedy server, and he took a long swig of his drink. Wiping the back of his hand across his lips, the redhead replaced the pint back to the table and then glanced towards the bone mage. "Why'd you suddenly join up with Trafalgar, eh?"

Ameria shrugged in return, keeping her silence.

Kidd pursed his lips, his brows furrowing together. "Remember who saved your ass? Answering is the polite thing to do, or has your manners shriveled up with being 'round Trafalgar too much?"

Ameria inhaled and exhaled softly before quietly asking: "And you care _why?_"

"She finally speaks." Kidd smirked, amused. "It ain't often you see people jumping crews this late in the game, y'know? I'm just curious about you like I'm sure Trafalgar was."

"_Hmph,_" Ameria huffed.

Kidd chuckled, a grin widening on his lips. "It's your voodoo… It's pretty interesting. Any man smart enough can see it's useful. An army of the undead? Hah! It's bloody brilliant."

She frowned; the teachings of her master were shining true.

Kidd then leaned in close, whispering: "Is that why Trafalgar helped Straw Hat back at Marine Ford? He saw the opportunity to potentially have an army of zombies at his beck n' call? I wouldn't put it past a sleaze-ball like that bastard."

Ameria scowled at the redhead's insult.

A sneer appeared on Kidd's lips. "Don't waste your energy scowling at me. It'll get you nowhere. Put that effort in entertaining me with a little bit of bone magic."

As defiant as she wanted to be, she resisted the urge and instead used the opportunity wisely. Ameria laid her hands on the table, her palms facing up and the grey aura touched her skin. The dust from every nook and cranny swirled around upon the tabletop, creating a little scene to entertain the pirates.

A miniature skeletal dragon emerged from the musty brown cloud, flapping its mighty magic-woven wings. The small beast lifted its head high to roar proudly when a miniature skeleton army of infantry and calvary marched across the table.

Kidd was easily amused by the miniature show of a medieval army slaying a dragon, and Ameria added a flying regime to the mix. Four skeletons rode four tiny sparrows, circling around the ceiling's exposed beams before three riders dove into battle so their riders could throw spears at the dragon's ribcage.

Ameria's eyes darted around the room, the awe of the crew and senior members never changing. She held up the charade until the door to the pub swung open, and a familiar black boot and spotted jean hem was exposed in the doorway.

Law casually stepped inside, his expression stone cold as he tapped the metal case of his nodachi against his shoulder. Then a sly smirk crossed his lips as he stalked over, shoving past members of his rival's crew. Law slammed his hand down onto the table, his grin wide.

"Is this the lost and found?" Law chirped with a cheeky tone in his voice. "Because it appears you found my missing bone mage, Mister Eustass. It's quite humbling that you retrieved her for me, but I'll be taking my little handful back, so she won't be causing anymore trouble for you."

Kidd stared in shock, but then his wide eyes quickly narrowed when the redhead noticed a little bone sparrow nestled in the crook of the surgeon's neck. Steam whistled from his ears as Kidd abruptly stood up from his seat and flipped the table. Everyone scattered so not to get crushed like the little skeletal animations that tumbled to the floor. Then Kidd turned his attention to the startled bone mage, one hand reaching for her and the other for the dagger sheathed on his belt.

"_Room._"

Ameria blinked away from Kidd's reach and was behind Law on the other side of the bar.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that stealing another man's woman is morally wrong, Eustass?" Law mused, a challenging glare in his steely grey eyes.

It only added fuel to the fire, Kidd opening his mouth to shout, but it was interrupted by a sudden commotion that stirred outside the pub. A familiar group of men filtered through the doorway, vicious scowls carved upon their cold features as they stood at attention while their captain stepped forward with a dark expression.

"Eustass," the captain drew out slowly. "You prick, stop using my men as target practice."

Kidd roared, and the empty chair beside him was thrown toward the third captain that had entered. The man lazily stepped to the side, the chair hitting a member of his crew square in the face. The force caused the wood to burst into pieces, the remains flying everywhere.

Law ducked his head, Ameria following suit as she clung to the yellow fabric of his hoodie. They both avoided the projectile, yet splinters still rain down onto their heads and shoulders. Law scanned the situation and he glanced over his shoulder, jerking his head to the door behind the bar. As the tension ran thick through the pub, two pirate crews clashed like a powerful supernova, Law and Ameria crept to the kitchen's door and then made a break for it.

Steam from boiling pots on the stove, fogging up the cramped and narrow room. Law grabbed her hand, pulling her through the cluster of cooks that howled at them, waving butcher knives in the air. Then Law kicked down the backdoor, rushing through and rounding the corner so they evaded a flurry of sharp blades that impaled the brick wall across the alley.

Ameria's cheeks went pale, and the manic laughter of her captain didn't lighten the mood.

They ran through the streets until the surgeon came to a grinding halt when a tremor shook the ground beneath their feet. They looked back, and Ameria gasped in shock while Law tipped the brim of his hat, both of them watching the mushroom shaped clouds block out the sun.

Law let out a low whistle. "Good thing a little birdie told me you were in trouble, Miss Bones." He looked back at her, a grin on his lips as the little sparrow still on his shoulder happily chirped. "You could have been in another pickle."

Ameria furrowed her brows, not taking to his humor. However, she bit back her retort. Instead she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him. She pressed her cheek to his chest, feeling his body go rigid from the surprise embrace. "Thanks for coming, though." She mumbled, a relieved look coming to her features.

A chuckle rumbled from his chest as Law relaxed. He placed a hand to her head, his fingers gently digging into the green wool of her hat as he said: "I don't make the same mistakes twice, Miss Bones."


	9. Chapter 9

#  **Piece in a Rock**

_Purupurupuru._

Ameria watched as the tiny snail lazily chanted the dial tone.

_Purupurupuru._

She tried to ignore the wailing den-den mushi by burying her nose into the anatomy textbook.

Law had ordered her to join him in the control room so he could supervise her practice, but he needed to take care of some business beforehand. He had three den-den mushi lined up on the table, and he tried multiple times to get an answer from each one, yet there was only white noise at the end of every call.

"_Fuck._" Law threw the receiver on the tabletop when the snail abruptly went back to sleep. The device skipped across the metal surface, ramming into the orange bucket before it had a chance to tumble over the edge. "None of them," he continued, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Not a single one."

Cleon frowned, looking up from a collection of old sea charts he was reviewing. "Maybe…they're just busy."

The effort to consul the surgeon was in vain. Law glowered at the navigator. "_Cleon,_" he snapped. "You and I both know that is not the case."

Cleon fidgeted in his seat, his gaze cast downward at the papers in front of him.

"Joker got them." Law growled, resentment boiling in his voice. He closed his eyes tightly, his brows knotted together as he massaged his aching temple. "_Tch,_" he bit his lip. "I told them to watch their backs and not to get too close. Shit…"

Law's hand hid the deep crease of his furrowed brow when he covered his eyes, but Ameria could still see the stress consuming him. A long frown pulled at the corner of his lips and another growl rumbled from the pits of his throat.

Ameria briefly wondered what would make the surgeon so agitated; he practically looked defeated. Though, she held her tongue. It was none of her business, and even if she acted upon her curiosity, she doubted he was in the mood to answer.

Law inhaled sharply then let out a long sigh. He leaned back in his seat, but his attention shifted back to her suddenly. He scowled at her. "Stop gawking and read," he snapped. "Or do I need to give you a pop quiz?"

Ameria glared at him. "Don't take it out on me."

"…" Law was silent for a moment. Then he groaned and closed his eyes. "You're right. My apologies. Just keep reading for now, and we—"

_Crrr_—**ACK!**

Everyone in the control room lurched forward in their seats when a violent tremor shook the submarine.

"What the _fuck?!_" Andy howled, whipping around to scowl at the pilot angrily.

Jim was silent and wide-eyed as he stared at the radar, bewildered when there was no change to the rhythmic chant.

A buzz resonated from the depths of the metal machine, the submarine doused in ominous red lights and the shriek of sirens ricocheted off the walls. Then the den-den mushi in front of the flustered maintenance technician sang in despair.

Charlie inspected the condition of Flevance on flashing red screens. "_Shit, shit, shit…_" He mumbled the string of profanities when he answered the den-den mushi, his ears instantly assaulted by the sharp voice of Shachi.

Law stood up from his seat, but he clung to the edge of the table for support. "_Jim._" There was a tightness in his tone that matched his rigid stance. "What did we hit?"

Jim didn't get the chance to reply as the submarine harshly jerked forward again, sending the passengers into another whirlwind of chaos.

It was as if time had slowed down.

The orange bucket that had been resting upon the table was thrown from its perch by the immense force. The bright plastic glimmered in the red lights as it soared across the control room in a long arch.

Then time returned to normal when the bucket collided vehemently with the back of Jim's head.

"J—_Jimmy!_" Andy yelped, watching in horror as the pilot slumped forward against the controls.

The weight of the pilot's body on the wheel made the submarine nosedived deeper into the darkness.

Law growled as he dashed around the table and leapt over the railing that separated the landings. Despite the slanted angle, Law made his way to the pilot's seat with grace and ripped the dazed man away while ordering over his shoulder: "Ameria! Check on him!" Then Law threw Jim to the floor and took control of the submarine.

Ameria couldn't uphold the same grace as the surgeon did, and she slipped along the steepness of the floor, but as Law pulled at the wheel with all his might, the submarine reared back.

"Wh—What is _that!?_" Charlie stuttered when he saw a monstrous grin framed by the large window that spanned across the room.

The radar started to rapidly blink followed by the wailing siren that bathed the room with red. The maintenance technician started to panic while the artillery technician grinned wildly with excitement.

"Shit," Law hissed as his fingers clicked across the wide range of colorful buttons. "Charlie, status."

"We're in the red!"

"Get it under control." Law then pushed a large lever forward and the submarine's speed increased. "Andy, find the target."

"Things gonna go boom!"

Law's fingers flexed as he held firmly to the wheel of his submarine. "And Ameria," he glanced over his shoulder. "I still need you to check on Jim."

"R—Right! Jimmy? Are you okay?"

"_Uuuh_…has anyone ever told you that your tits are amazing?"

"H—Hey!"

Law's calm composure shattered when his brows knotted together and a vein of irritation pulsed him his skin. "**Jim!**" The surgeon snapped, but he couldn't take his eyes off the sea as he maneuvered around rock formations in the dark waters to avoid the large green dot that was chasing them on the radar. "Keep your hands to yourself or I'll fucking amputate them!"

The threat was forgotten when the creature rammed into the back of the submarine a third time.

"_Fuck!_" Charlie hollered. "_Errors! Errors everywhere!_"

"Calm down." Equanimity returned to the surgeon. "Andy, do you have the target in sight?"

"_Jaja!_" Andy cackled wildly and he watched the screen that held the image of a smirking dark mass, the green crosshairs locking onto the target. "Things are gonna go boom!" Then his thumb pressed the red button atop his joystick and the submarine jerked when the torpedoes were ejected.

Yet, there was no explosion.

"_What?_" Andy blinked in confusion and stared at the screen, his eyes growing wide in shock. "T—They went right through! My babies didn't land a hit!"

Law bit his lip. "Time for plan B," he murmured and pushed the lever up another notch.

The submarine accelerated, heading straight for a rock formation with an opening on the face of an underwater mountain. Flevance was able to squeeze through the narrow passageway, moving with the currents created by a powerful force when the creature rammed into the mountain's side. Then a mighty roar echoed throughout the tiny submarine, the bellow thick with rage before there was a sudden eerie silence. There was a moment of peace within the submarine, the sirens settling down and the red lights flickered off.

Charlie hung up the den-den mushi's receiver and then leaned back in his seat with a sigh. "That…was_ horrifying._"

"Why didn't it go boom!?" Andy slammed the side of his fist to the armrest of his chair. "I saw it hit! It hit, but didn't!"

"Not important!" Cleon finally spoke up. "Ameria," then the navigator looked to the blushing bone mage that still sat beside the mumbling pilot. "Go get Brodie from the infirmary so he can check up on Jim's condition."

"Leave him." Law scoffed, rolling his eyes. "It's just a mild concussion."

"_Uuhh_…why are there birds everywhere?"

Cleon crossed his arms over his chest after the pilot muttered the flaky response and he said once more: "Get Brodie."

* * *

The buildings of the portside village were boarded up with timber and abandoned with not a soul in sight. A long chain-link fence barricaded the bay, forcing the tiny collection of ships docked at the port to follow a narrow, but a direct route that traveled further inland. The island was a barren wasteland of endless mountains that span across the horizon. The steep slopes were consumed in moonlight, the stones glowing like a spotlight for the little village off in the distance. An ominous aura radiated from silence behind the metal fence, and the flag of the World Government flying high in the night sky above the docks.

The sight made Law frown. "This is hardly ideal, you know?"

"We need to make repairs," Shachi replied. "I have a feeling we'll be doing that a lot in the New World…"

"No more easy-breezy Paradise-side for us, yeah?" Penguin huffed. "Might wanna invest in some upgrades for the old dear," and he pat the wooden railing of the submarine's deck.

"I heard lots of rumors 'bout this metal that's super strong!" Shachi grinned, excited. "They call it Worldly Iron, and you can only get it 'ere on this side of the Grand Line!"

"Isn't that super expensive?" Penguin frowned. "Like, you can only get it on the blackmarket, expensive."

"Stopping between every other island making repairs is gonna add up anyway," Shachi huffed. "Might as well try to invest in it, right, Captain?"

Law leaned against the railing and crossed his arms. "Sounds like we will have to give up on a lot of luxuries for awhile."

"_Ugh_, true," Shachi sighed, a bead of sweat on his brow. "That'll suck, for sure."

"It'll be worth it in the end," Penguin pointed out.

"Also, true," Shachi nodded. "Anyway, we'll get the guys working on repairs. We got enough supplies to patch things up no problem, but the amount of scrap we're accumulating is gettin' to be…a bit much."

"You think there'll be some salvagers here?" Penguin wondered aloud.

"It's possible," Law interjected and his gaze turned to the metal fence surrounding the dock. "There is something here that made the World Government quarantine most of the island. I think the inhabitants would readily buy scrap metal for defenses."

"You think so?" Shachi curiously asked.

Law shrugged. "It's a theory, but we can go into town and find out," then he leaned away from the railing. "Tell Nigel he's in charge of overseeing repairs, then get Bepo as well as Bart."

"_Aye-aye,_" Penguin and Shachi said in unison and then they left to carry out their orders.

Law grabbed his nodachi leaning against the railing by his side and then rested his weapon against his shoulder. He looked up at the ominous flag one last time, watching it sway in the breeze overhead, and then he started to head towards the dock.

"W—_Wait!_"

Law's stride came to a halt and he turned to see Ameria running up to him. "What's this, Miss Bones?" He mused. "Do you wish to join us? I'm rather flattered."

Ameria chuckled sheepishly. "N—Not exactly," she murmured, scratching the side of her cheek. "I wanted to ask if I could explore a bit of the island…"

Law's brow rose. "Explore the painfully obvious danger-filled island?" He countered with a question and crossed his arms. "Your explanation on why will be priceless, I'm sure."

Ameria shifted uncomfortably where she stood. She looked down at her feet and fiddled with the hem of her jacket. "Ah!" Then her eyes opened wide and she pulled at the chain of her amulet and held it out to him. "Touch this."

Law eyed her warily, but complied. He reached out and brushed his fingertips against the copper, but instantly pulled back. He blinked, baffled. "It's_ hot._"

Ameria nodded. "This means…another piece is here," she told him. "I'm working from experience. It's happened before when I was with the Straw Hats. We were on this island named Jaya. I was with Robin and Zoro looking for this stupid bird and then there was that tree—"

"I get it, Miss Bones…" Law interrupted her by placing his finger to her lips. "But what exactly is a piece?"

"O—_Oh!_" Ameria gasped. "I guess… I guess I never did tell you yet…" she trailed off and then dug through the folds of her jacket, pulling out a tiny piece of gold.

Law examined the little piece of metal, experimentally reaching out to touch it, and he was surprised that Ameria let him hold it. He held it up, observing it in the dim moonlight. It looked very detailed in nature, the gold surface carved with an ornate swirling design. Yet, it was quite obviously broken.

"So, what is this a piece of?" He asked, handing the fragment back to her.

"A piece of Master's mask," Ameria answered as she put the fragment back in her jacket, Shnell's bony fingers plucking it from her hand. "There's five pieces in all. So, looking for the other four now."

"And you believe that the second one is here?" Law inquired.

Ameria nodded, confidence burning in her blue eyes. "Positive."

Law stared at her for a moment, watching the determination building up within her. She was practically ready to burst, which made him feel bad about bursting her bubble. "Can you wait until I get back, at least? I'm a bit..._hesitant_ about letting you go off on your own after the past few times."

The look on her face never changed, if anything it got brighter. "Don't worry!" She beamed, again shoving her hand into her jacket and she held a skull above her head. "I have Bas with me!

Law sighed. "How can I say no to a face like that," he smiled softly. "However…" and he held out a hand to his side, a small blue sphere surrounding it. Then in the palm of his hand was a baby den-den mushi. "Call me if anything happens," he firmly ordered as he handed her the sleeping snail.

"Will do!" She grinned and shoved the baby den-den mushi into her pocket before she skipped away.

A bead of sweat appeared on his brow as he watched her go. _I feel like I might regret letting her go alone_…he thought.

"Where's Ameria going?"

Law turned around when he heard the voice of his first-mate, and he saw that the small group he wished for was assembled. "On a small expedition," he answered. "She'll be fine…more or less."

"_Err,_" Penguin eyed the surgeon. "You don't sound too confident 'bout that."

Law waved it aside. "I have faith in her, but anyway, about that scrap metal…"

"Maybe we'll find another artist, yeah?" Shachi grinned. "I think he paid us more than anyone else."

"Hey now," Law smirked. "His work turned out quite well… I still have all the progress pictures, studio pictures and award pictures…"

"You really have an affinity for art, Captain." Bepo nodded proudly.

"_Heh,_" Law chuckled. "It's good inspiration for my work."

* * *

Ameria hurried through the abandoned village, glancing down empty streets until she heard a rather shrill voice echo through the dark night.

"What do you gentlemen mean you couldn't get me any?"

It was a woman's voice, but it still made Ameria falter in her tracks. She ducked behind the shadows of a wall and peered around the corner to see a group of worn out men and a single young woman.

The young woman was dressed in a lab coat, but underneath the white material was a flashy baby-doll dress that was vivid with color, the floral pattern was stitched in gold on crimson fabric. She shifted her weight onto her right, her black pumps disturbing the dirt. She glowered down at the man trapped in her harsh gaze.

Then she huffed in annoyance, stuffing her hands deep into the pockets of her pristine medical lab coat. "I requested that you gentlemen bring me the necessary requirements for—"

"Tulip." The man snapped, cutting her off. "You didn't go in there. You don't know what it's like! Look at my men," and he motioned towards the cluster of worn sailors standing behind him. "They're in no condition to go back in there for no reason!"

"No reason?" The woman glared at the man. "On the contrary, there is a reason, which I explained to you. If I must repeat it, then I shall—"

"We don't care!" The man barked, stomping his foot to the ground. "We aren't going back in there! Those things are the size of horses!"

The young woman held her sharp stare before scoffing. She flicked a lock of orange hair over her shoulder, the long pigtail smacking one of the men in the face. She ignored the small yelp from behind her as she stalked away with the grumbling man and his crew trailing behind reluctantly.  
Ameria approached the area that was once occupied and she turned to watch the group disappear on the path towards the village. Then she looked at the fence, her hand touching her amulet.

It was getting even hotter, which meant she was getting closer.

* * *

"Excuse me, gent," Her tone was cold as she spoke. She leaned back in her chair, arms folded over her chest and her legs crossed over each other. "But what exactly are you trying to say?"

"Sorry, Tulip." The man showed no remorse as he said the apology. "But my crew and I will not continue on."

Her glare was razor sharp. "You knew the risks when you signed the contract, Captain Arnold," she venomously hissed. "You knew it could be dangerous, considering the natural state of the New World and also the current events that affected it. However, I paid you for safe passage."  
The captain's eyes narrowed sharply at the young woman's tone. "I hope you haven't forgotten that the agreement stated I can retract my help at any time because of those risks."

"Under the circumstances that you pay me back seventy-percent of the original price we agreed upon," she clarified bluntly.

"Look, lady." The captain spat, jabbing a finger towards her. "I ain't paying you nothing. It's you who should be paying me 'cause of all the damage your journey caused to my ship and men!"

"You're legally bound by a contract, Captain Arnold," she stated firmly. "I can, and will, sue you for triple the amount of money you owe me right now if you do not follow through with the legal arrangements we agreed upon."

"I—I don't have the money!" The captain shouted, anguish swarming his features. "I've spend it all on repairs! I have nothing to give you even if I wanted to!"

"Unbelievable." She scoffed, rolling her aqua eyes. "Fine, you're lucky that I'm kind-hearted and will postpone payment."

"Kind-hearted?" The captain repeated the word in resentment. "_Ha_. That's a joke. You're as wicked as the wicked witch of the west."

She eyed him, annoyed. "Any person would be furious when a contract is broken and they are losing money," she objected. "Be happy that I'm not calling the Marines to drag you and your crew to prison considering you aren't the most passive of mercenaries out there."

The captain's eyes opened wide. "Are you…threatening me?"

"Call it motivation, Captain Arnold," she corrected. "To pay me back before you make me any more upset than you already have."

The flicker of darkness flashed across the captain's eyes. "_Bitch,_" he growled and then pivoted on his heel to leave the room.

The door to her quarters slammed shut with a loud bang and the young woman sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. She pinched the bridge of her nose. What was she going to do now that she lost her convoy? This was the third crew she had gone through in such a short time frame that she felt like she was running out of luck. Pursing her lips, she dug through the large pocket of her lab coat and pulled out a worn piece of paper. It had been folded and opened so many times that seams were starting to fray. She had to be careful as she slowly opened the letter one more time, reading the contents.

_My Darling Alicia, _it greeted her.

_Please, reconsider my proposal. True as it may be that you are one of the brightest scientists of our division, but it does not change the fact that you are not ready to travel alone, primarily with the current state of the world._   
_The request is important, both for moral and scientific stances, and also because it was addressed to you personally. I am undoubtedly very proud of this, but please allow the division as a whole to conquer it. This is not a vigilante's spirit quest that must be tackled alone._   
_Correspond when you have the time, my Darling Alicia._

_Your loving father,_   
_Headmaster of Athens University, Kandinsky E. Dmitri_

Gingerly, she folded the letter and then replaced it back into her pocket with a frown. She didn't want to reach out to her father, but at this point she might have to. It was as if there was no crew that could handle the pressure of the New World. She wanted to show her father that she was more than just a researcher that remained in a laboratory doing experiments and then documenting them. She wanted to show him she could practice her trade in the field: this was her mission.

_A failed mission_, she thought with a sigh.

Groaning, she got up from the chair, massaging the kinks that formed in the back of her neck as she walked to the door of her room. Then she headed down the stairs, making her way to the nearest den-den mushi.

When she entered the lobby, there was unrest from the visitors as they exchanged whispers and rumors. Curious, she inspected the reception area and saw her answer leaning against the desk.

Her eyes opened wide at the sight of a _Supernova_, but then the tiny gears within her active mind began to spin.

A lightbulb went off above her head and a smirk crossed her ruby red lips. "The pressures of the New World," she purred. "Can you conquer them, Surgeon of Death?"

* * *

Brodie squealed in delight, the medical assistant mimicking an irritatingly hyper teenage girl as he bounced on the balls of his heels and shook his clenched fists vigorously.

The small collection of men on deck cringed, and the ones near the medical assistant covered their ears to block the shrill sound. Disregarding the scornful glares he received, Brodie rushed to the group that boarded the submarine's deck, shoving past the head mechanics that carried two large suitcases in each hand and headed straight to the young woman that stood between the surgeon and polar bear.

Then shamelessly, Brodie hugged the stranger. "_It's you, it's you, it's you, it's you!_" He chanted, embracing the petite woman like she was a long lost lover. "_Oh my god, I can't believe it's you~!_"

The pirates stared in shock to see him lose his cool composure so quickly, especially his bizarre affections towards a complete stranger.

However, that stranger was none other than Alicia the Tulip, one of the medical assistant's favorite authors.

Surprisingly, Alicia wasn't disturbed by the medical assistant's actions. There was a small smile on her ruby lips as she gently pat him on the back. "A fan of my work?" She mused. "I receive this type of reaction more often than you would think, especially when I visit medical institutes, but this is the first time I have been celebrated by a pirate."

Brodie pulled back, his hands remaining on the author's shoulders as he rambled on and on about her work with a giddy smile on his lips.

Law knew his medical assistant could go on for hours about the author's lengthy medical volumes, but he decided to spare everyone by quickly cutting in. "Miss Tulip will be joining us for a short time."

"Really?!" Brodie gasped, the high-pitched squeal making the author wince and rub her ears.

"_Really?_" The other members of the crew repeated the word, but they were sorely unamused.

"She needs passage to a few different islands," Law explained. "She has the eternal log poses for all and is also paying us quite the pretty penny for the service."

Cleon crossed his arms over his chest. "A shiny penny you couldn't refuse, huh?"

"But of course." Law smirked, but then he sent an aggravated glare towards the medical assistant who was still obnoxiously trembling like an excited chihuahua. "Anyway," he cleared his throat. "Has Miss Bones returned? We need to discuss sleeping arrangements now that we have a temporary guest joining us…"

_Whoosh~_

Silence.

No one replied, which made Law shift uncomfortably in concern. "This doesn't sound good…"

"You gave her a den-den mushi, right?" Penguin pointed out quickly. "She would have called if there was something wrong."

"That is true…" Law agreed with a small nod.

"She's probably fine," Shachi waved it aside. "I mean, it's not like she ran off on her own or somethin'. Plus, she has her demon thingy with her."

"It's a spirit," Bepo corrected curtly.

"_Shuddup,_" Shachi snapped. "No one was talking to you."

"I'm sorry," and Bepo hung his head.

"I'll give her a few more minutes…" Law drew out slowly. "I'll call her if she doesn't come back."

"Pardon me…" Alicia then spoke up. "I don't mean to interrupt, however…" and a concerned expression crossed her features. "You do know that this island is currently infested with giant man-eating scorpions, yes?"

_Whoosh~_

Silence.

"I see…" Alicia frowned, glancing downward. "I'll take that as a no."

Law pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling: "_For the love of…_"

* * *

A tiny plume of dust billowed up from her heels when her feet touched the ground. Dusting the dirt off her white jeans, she rose from her crouch and then pivoted on her heel to face the fence. She placed a hand on her amulet, but instantly pulled it away. The heat was rising in temperature to the point where she couldn't hold it for long.

"I guess I'm still on track." Ameria grimaced. "That _damned devil_ would never let me stray. I can't tell if it's a good thing or a bad one…especially since I think the _thing_ that attacked the submarine this morning was also because of him," and she shuddered at the thought.

The ivory fabric of her jacket shifted and Tanker popped out from the folds to rudely state: "It's a super bad thing."

Ameria sent her nosy familiar a scowl. "No one asked you."

"I'm just stating the obvious." Tanker scoffed, his crimson auras rolling within his eye sockets.

Ameria closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "I'm _not_ worried about that," and then she clenched her fists tightly. "It doesn't matter if it's good or bad anymore. I'm doing this for Master. I can't… no, I _won't_ let him die because of that curse!"

Tanker fell silent, a rare occurrence for the usually noisy familiar, and he gently patted her cheek in comfort.

Ameria weakly smiled, but the attempt was futile as the frown remained. There was a heavy weight on her shoulder. To ignore it, she continued down the narrow pathway and traveled deeper into the mountain range. The barren terrain seemed dead yet still thriving with life as continuous needle _pricks_ clicked against the stone. The harmonizing sound made her chest swell with tension the further she walked into the unknown. The feeling only got worse when the path ended at a black hole drilled into a mountain's face.

Ameria approached the rocky slope, inspecting the strange opening. It looked unnatural, yet it didn't look like it had happened within the week. There was still a faint freshness to the scar on that earth. The rocks was still sharp and loose, not yet weathered by the elements of time. She had an inkling she knew what caused it.

"_By Mortalitas…something reeks down there._"

Ameria took a step back from the mountain's face, her brows furrowed as she shoved her hand into the folds of her jacket, pulling out the spirit's vessel. "Reeks?" She repeated.

The vessel floated away from the bone mage's hand, eldritch flames glowing from the skull's eye sockets. "_You feel it, correct?_" Bas turned to the darkness, a greenish glow casting the shadows away slightly. "_You obviously feel something if you are here, but I can smell it and, to me, it reeks._"

Ameria frowned. "I see…" and her hand went to her pocket, her fingers brushing against the sleeping den-den mushi. The thought of calling the surgeon crossed her mind, but then she shook it off. She would only do that if necessary. This was still her mission, and she wanted to handle it. "Rotten smells or not, it means it's time to go down the rabbit hole," and then she climbed into the tapered passage.

The stone within the passageway was rough, the sharp creases pinching her skin as she crawled deeper and deeper into the mountain's depths. The bright glow from the spirit's vessel guided her way, but when she reached the end of the tiny tunnel, there was a cloak of darkness that the green light could not remove.

There was a disembodied popping that echoed off the walls, the noise faintly similar to the sound of cracking knuckles.

The bone mage gulped and a bead of sweat trickled down her cheek as she held out her hands. The soft grey aura intensified as she created orbs of light, the spheres fluttering to the cavern's ceiling to cast away the darkness.

The shadows shriveled within the growing light and revealed a heinous shadow cast against the walls. The bone mage yelped, but then quickly covered her mouth when she saw a monstrous scorpion begin to stir on its bed of bones. The beast's exoskeleton was tinted a rust color and upon a closer inspection, the bone mage saw that the color was produced by the hundreds of large scorplings clinging to their mother's back.

Any normal person would have turned on their heel and bolted at the sight, but not her. She held her ground when she saw a section of exoskeleton that did not match the rest. The section was glowing an eerie shade of green, radiating such an intense aura. It was just like the time on Jaya, only last time it was a giant tree that tried to eat her alive and not a monstrous scorpion that could very well do the same.

Ameria took a deep breath in and then out, staring at her hands that beamed brightly in the color grey. Then slowly, she approached the slumbering mother scorpion.

Tanker yanked at the collar of her jacket in protest all the way, but she continued on with light footsteps to avoid the pile of bones the mother scorpion used as a nest. When she got close enough, and she could see what was embedded in the mother scorpion's head: a tiny plate of gold.

Her hands motioned to the bones around her, her magic clinging to the collagen. The bones shuddered with a breath of life, waiting for her command, and Ameria pointed to the scorpion's head. The skeletal animations obeyed and scurried atop the mother scorpion, their bony fingers clawing at the small plate to pry it from the thick exoskeleton. Then pop, the piece finally came out and flew through the air, landing at her feet.

A neon green liquid oozed from the hole and the mother scorpion roared in agony, thrashing away the sleep. The action threw the skeletal animations from her body and into the air, the bones crashing into the cavern walls.

Ameria gasped and ducked to avoid the projectiles.

"_Look out!_"

She heard Bas scream and she looked up in horror when she saw a poisonous stinger lunch towards her. Her hands still burned grey and she shielded her face, the bones around the room following the silent order. The cartilage was swift, protecting her from the stinger that collided with the barrier of bones.

The mother scorpion removed her stinger from the cracked defense and the beast let out another shriek of pain. It was shuddering, the green ooze on it's head glowing even brighter as the scorpion's body started shrinking in size. The beast was three times smaller, yet still an unnatural size for an arachnid. The trembling mother scorpion disturbed the scorplings that slumbered on her back, the baby beasts' sizes decreasing as well as they crawled down in hordes to the cavern floors.

A bead of sweat appeared on Ameria's brow when the scorplings charged her. She rammed her glowing hands to the ground and a cloud of dust surrounded her feet. From the hazy mist, a large skeletal hand emerged and the animation's open palm pushed against the bone mage's feet, propelling her into the air.

Ameria reached out into the darkness, her fingers latching onto the stable stone along the cavern wall. She pulled herself up on the tiny berth, huddled close to the wall to avoid the loose rocks that fell from the ceiling.

"_It's ramming the cliff!_" Tanker shrieked in terror as he clung to the bone mage's head. "Hurry! Summon Bas! _Release the Kraken!_"

Ameria eyed the floating vessel at her side, but the cavern ceiling caught her attention. She saw small streams of light peeking through newly founded cracks, the moonlight starting to pour in. "No need," she purred. "The beast's rage will be its undoing."

The mother scorpion continued to bang its claws against the cliff where she was perched, and the scorplings crawled on top of each other to try and scale the wall. The strength behind each powerful _bang_ made the dangling stalagmites shudder and drop to the cavern floor one by one, crushing the little scorplings that were in the way. Then there was a mighty_ crack_ that ricocheted off the walls and the ceiling caved in.

_Crunch, crunch, crunch._

Ameria closed her eyes and flinched at the sound of rocks crushing thousands of arachnids on the ground. When the violent tremors ceased, she opened her eyes to inspect the aftermath. The moon was visible, framed by an open crater where the ceiling had been only seconds ago, and below her the floor was covered in fresh rubble along with a layer of grimy yellow slime.

Ameria leapt down from her perch, taking care not to slip on the yellow goo that bled through the cracks between rocks. She placed a hand on her hip and then the other on her chin. "That worked well," she smiled.

Shnell then emerged from the folds of her jacket to cling to her shoulder, just so he could happily tap her cheek in congratulations.

"_Uuuuuggggghh,_" Tanker moaned loudly, the crimson auras in his eye sockets swirling wildly. The noisy familiar's skeletal body went limp as he dangled over the bone mage's shoulder. "That gave me a heart attack…if I had a heart—_skull jokes!_" Then the familiar slapped two of his bony hands to his cheekbones and he waved the other two high over his head while he giddily laughed. "_Yo, ho, ho!_"

Ameria glared at her noisy familiar, unamused. "_Shuddup,_" she snapped and flicked Tanker in the forehead.

"_Ahem,_" the spirit interjected himself into the conversation, the vessel hovering beside her. "_In any case, excellent plan to use the environment against that beast._"

Ameria beamed with pride. "Thank you," she grinned and blushed. "I try my best."

"But you did _nothing,_" Tanker countered sharply. "All you did was agitate a giant monster!"

Ameria glared at her familiar angrily. "Some situation don't need brute force, _you stupid—!_"

_Cr_—**ack!**

Ameria jumped at the frightful sound and then whipped around, her eyes opening wide in shock. The ground quivered, and then debris soared through the air, creating a dense smog of dirt that obscured the scene. When the clouds cleared, the mother scorpion emerged from the splintered stones.

Its black exoskeleton was cracked and a few of the beast's legs were torn from its body, the limbs trapped between fallen rocks. Yellow puss oozed from the beast's wounds, adding to the layer of grimy slime covering the ground, but despite its fatal injuries, the mother scorpion let out a roar and charged toward the bone mage.

Tanker grabbed a chunk of her hair and then pulled on it, screaming at the top of his lungs. "_Use brute force now, you stupid mage!_"

Ameria ground her teeth together, the grey aura of her magic returning to her hands. She flexed her fingers, creating a grey orb between her hands. The sphere of pure magic grew in size until it turned into a maniacally laughing skull. Then with a battlecry, she hurled it at the scorpion. The cackling skull collided with the beast, melting into the splintered exoskeleton and the scorpion went into a daze.

Then the bone mage waved a hand through the dust in the air. "_Come, my Lavender!_" She roared.

The dust swirled together in a tornado until solid cartilage formed and the thick skull of a skeletal dragon rammed against the scorpion. The dragon used the momentum and spread its wings wide to take flight, pushing the scorpion into the air.

The scorpion then fell to the ground, the rubble splintering even more and the dragon landed right on top of the beast. The skeletal dragon opened its jaw wide to strike, but the scorpion's large claw slammed into the dragon's exposed ribcage, shattering the cartilage. The dragon let out a roar and teetered off balance, crumbling to the ground, and Ameria bit her lip at the sight. Law had explained that collagen was stronger, but cartilage was still faster and easier for her to make; she should have known it would break just as fast, too.

She shook off the negativity, and she grabbed the floating vessel beside her. She slapped her hand on the skull, hollering: "_Release!_"

A flash of inky shadows zoomed from the vessel, the darkness taking the form of an elegant crow. The shadows fluttered away in a flurry of black feathers, revealing the spirit's true form yet two black wings remained on his back. "Your orders?"

"Show no mercy!"

Bas deviously smirked. "As you wish," and then he held out a hand, releasing a bolt of crimson crystals from his palm.

The blood gems were like hissing bullets that collided with the scorpion, shattering into plumes of crimson smog. From within the red fumes, black masses molded into deranged shapes. Eerie cracks of cartilage and pops of joints resonated from the mist then a distorted chorus of groans followed soon after. The smoke dispersed as the spirit's prized undead collection crawled haphazardly across the scorpion's body like daring spiders.

The animations wore shaggy ebony cloaks, the bloodstained fabric ripped to reveal rotten green flesh underneath. The undead clawed their way through the scorpion's worn exoskeleton, cracking it even more and burrowed within the beast's body. The scorpion was consumed by the inside out, the beast letting out one last wail before falling.

Ameria stared at the sight before collapsing to her knees, panting heavily. Tanker and Shnell fumbled from her shoulders in mental exhaustion, and from her tiny familiar's robes came the tiny plate of gold. The bone mage reached forward and picked it up, smiling as the metal rested in the palm of her hand.

Another fragment for her master's mask.

_Clink!_

_Ssssssssssh!_

The fond moment was interrupted when she heard the hiss of metal on metal. She looked around, her eyes wide when she saw Law attacking Bas, the sharp edge of the surgeon's nodachi grinding against the spirit's gauntleted arm.

Bas had his arm up, blocking the sudden assault and he snapped: "A—Are you mad!?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Law growled through his teeth.

Ameria gasped, quickly scurrying to her feet and then she wrapped her arms around the surgeon's. "St—_Stop!_" She yelped. "This is Bas! _BAS!_"

Law paused, his tense body relaxing slightly and his eyes flickered with surprise. Then cautiously, he took a step back. He eased the pressure of his blade on the spirit's arm, yet his grip on the hilt of his nodachi remained tight. "So this is what the demon looks like outside of his shell."

Bas scoffed, rolling his eyes as he rubbed his arm.

Ameria scowled at the surgeon and removed herself from his side and stood in front of him, hands on her hips. "I told you, he's not a demon."

"Right, right...however, Miss Bones." Law returned with an angry glare of his own as he sheathed his weapon. "That isn't the issue here. Why didn't you call me? I told you to do so if there was any trouble. I believe large man-eating scorpions is on that list, especially with your track record."

"But I did fine on my own!" Ameria countered. "And look," she held up the fragment in her hand. "I got it, I got it! I'm one step closer now!" She disregarded his angry look as she beamed with pride, a large smile spread from ear to ear. Then she reached out and grabbed the surgeon's hands.

"_Ack!_" Law's eyes went wide and he grunted at the awkward position she put him in. He was still holding his sword and she was still holding the fragment. "H—_Hey!_ Stop it!" He tried to protest, but it didn't help, especially when she started to hop around in a victory jig. "Dammit, Ameria!"

The bone mage forced the surgeon to dance, which made a very noticeable vein of irritation pound against his brow. The two carried on, completely forgetting about the audience that surrounded them. A few members of the crew had followed their captain to back him up, but it appeared that the bone mage had handled the situation rather well. It was surprising to say the least since Ameria had seemed to be a magnet when it came to trouble.

"_Aha!_"

The group of men were startled by the feminine voice behind them, and they were all shocked to see that Alicia had followed them.

"O—_Oi!_" Shachi stuttered. "We told you to stay back on the submarine!"

"You left before I could give you gentlemen instructions to retrieve something for me," the author replied as she quickly dug through her large purple purse. "So I decided to follow you," and she pulled out a large glass jar with a red lid that had multiple holes poked in the plastic.

The pirates all shared a collective sweatdrop.

"…She's no better than Ameria," Penguin mumbled.

"Damn brats," Nigel grumbled.

Alicia ignored their comments and instead focused on her own task. She crouched down and gingerly picked up a wiggling baby scorpion. The little creature looked worn and was covered in yellow slime, but it was very much alive. Then the author plopped the scorpion into the jar and sealed it shut.

"_Err..._" Shachi stared at her. "What are you doing?"

"Poison from this breed of scorpion was on my ingredients list." Alicia answered with a smirk. "I did tell you I have a number of islands I need to go to, all rather deadly in nature because my list includes a hefty variety of flora and fauna dealing with poisons. I hope you are up for the task, my good gentlemen~"

Again, the pirates all shared a collective sweatdrop when the author started to devilishly giggle.


	10. Chapter 10

#  **Eyes Everywhere**

"Here, Ameria," Cleon pushed opened the heavy metal door and then he stepped aside to let her through. "Sorry to boot you out of your room, but you'll be sleeping here while Miss Alicia stays with us."

Ameria's azure gaze flickered back and forth, inspecting the tiny square room. There were dark oak bookshelves that lined all four walls. Cabinet doors sealed the books in their cubbies and glass panes revealed the titles printed on each spine. A wide range of books were on display. Medical and engineering textbooks, charting catalogs, cookbooks and thick binders with labels for newspaper articles. There were even a few of Sal's favorite comedy romance novels that had a place to call their own. In the furthest left-hand corner of the study was a large mahogany desk with a matching high-back chair tucked underneath, and diagonally across from the desk was a small leather sofa that could barely fit two people.

"It's not the best accommodations," Cleon frowned at the tiny brown couch. "But it's better than bunking with those fools."

Brodie then stepped through the doorway, a bundle of old blankets and pillows in his arms. "We had tossed around the idea of you using the spare bunk in my room…" the medical assistant started, but then his nose scrunched up with disgust. "But those roommates of mine are so…gross. It's _disgusting_ the filth four men accumulate. You have no idea what they did this morn—"

"Not the time to gossip." Cleon snapped, glaring at the medical assistant from behind his thick framed glasses. "I don't even want to know. I've seen enough of what _those_ three fools do in the control room."

"Penguin's the worst of the lot," Brodie huffed and then looked towards the bone mage, a stern expression upon his features. "Don't let his seemingly quiet demeanor fool you. He's a monster."

Cleon rolled his eyes at the insult while Ameria chuckled awkwardly in response.

Brodie opened his mouth to continue his rant, but the sound of approaching footsteps made him pause.

Click, click, click.

Brodie gasped, clutching the pillows and blankets to his chest tightly. "M—Miss Alicia!" His cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. "G—Good evening!"

Alicia strolled up to the study's open doorway and sent the medical assistant a kind smile and nod. But then Alicia's attention turned to Ameria and the author stepped into the tiny room. Alicia stuffed her hands into the large pockets of her pristine lab coat and she leaned in close to Ameria, humming in thought.

Ameria felt a bead of sweat on her brow and she leaned back, eyeing the author uncomfortably.

Alicia either ignored or didn't pick up on the wariness. She merely smiled. "Greetings, Madame Bones," and she leaned away.

"Hello…" Ameria sheepishly scratched the side of her cheek.

"I just wanted to say hello since we hadn't been formally introduced." Then Alicia glanced away, a thoughtful look in her aqua eyes that held a slightly guilty gleam, and she twirled a long strand of orange hair around her slender finger. "Also, I must apologize for taking over your room for the time being."

"She doesn't mind at all!" Brodie interjected quickly.

Cleon gave the medical assistant an annoyed look at the outburst.

"I—It's alright." Ameria waved her hands in defense. "I heard from the guys that you were paying us well, so you should get a good room." She paused, pursing her lips. "At least as good as it can get."

"I'm not sure about that," Alicia smirked. "I think I would rather be in this little slice of heaven…" and she let out a heavy sigh, staring dreamily at all the books. "Though, I did find a few in your room." Then a curious twinkle came to her eyes. "Are you a fan of skeletal anatomy?"

Ameria nodded. "It's for practice."

"For your powers, correct?" Alicia arched her eyebrow, continuing to press. "May I see?"

Ameria shrugged, indifferent. The bone mage cupped her hands together, a faint grey aura engulfing them. A thin current of dust came to her hands and it formed a tiny skeleton in her palm. The skeleton looked around curiously before its glowing red eyes landed upon the author and it waved at her.

Alicia leaned over to inspect the animation, her aqua eyes wide. "_Fascinating_…" and the comment made the tiny animation's cheekbones blush an embarrassed shade of pink.

"I thought you needed more dust to make your stuff," Cleon scoffed.

"Or you underestimate the condition of your study," Ameria countered.

Cleon glared at her. "Then you can add that to your chores list."

"_Ugh,_" Ameria groaned.

Alicia ignored the banter between the navigator and bone mage. "You're more open than I expected…" she mumbled.

Ameria glanced away from Cleon and stared at Alicia, her brows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Alicia cast it aside with a wave of her hand. "Just the musing of the mad," she chuckled lightly.

Ameria felt more beads of sweat dripping down her cheek. She had a feeling this woman was going to be giving her a run for the money. Actually, the run would be quite literal since Alicia was paying the crew to escort her on a journey into poisonous territory of the New World. "O—Oh my..." Ameria suddenly felt rather nervous.

"_Hmm?_" Alicia hummed.

Ameria jumped, startled when the author heard her whisper. She opened her mouth to try and avoid the conversation, but her voice wasn't needed since the bellow of a mighty pop did just the trick.

The sound of an explosion deep within the submarine ricocheted off the walls like a grenade had been thrown. The violent tremor threw the four in the study off balance. Alicia collapsed into Ameria's arms while Cleon desperately clung to the doorframe and Brodie dropped his load to the floor to brace himself. A siren hollered overhead, crimson lights engulfing the hallway and the submarine's sprinkler system flickered on to drench everything in sight.

"What was _that?!_" Brodie shouted, his eyes growing wide with concern.

Then the _clicks_ of hasty heels rushed down the hallway and the short mechanic skid to a halt when he saw the medical assistant. "T—The C3 boiler exploded!" Sam wailed, sweat dripping down his brow along with the water from the emergency shower. "A—And Nigel got the brute of it!"

Brodie's face paled when he heard the morbid news. In the blink of an eye, the medical assistant was sprinting to the staircase with the short mechanic. Alicia regained her balance and quickly followed after the men with Ameria at her heels. Then Cleon shouted over his shoulder about how he would retrieve the captain.

Wafts of smoke still filtered out from the doorway as Brodie, Sam, Alicia and Ameria rapidly approached the boiler room. A small group of men stood in the hallway, their white boilersuits stained black with ash. The crewmen were hunched over with hands over their mouths, trying their best to avoid the bile smoke. Then from the grey veil emerged the two head mechanics that dragged out the blonde mechanic and laid him on the floor.

Nigel groaned in agony. The left side of his cheek was covered in a layer of nasty blisters that had already started to form, and his usually unkempt hair was singed black at the ends. His left shoulder and arm were exposed, the fresh wounds bare to the world. His once tan skin was crisp with fresh burns and drenched in oozing crimson blood.

Brodie knelt down beside the blonde mechanic and inspected the burns, a grimace on his lips. "_Shit._"

"W—What do we do!?" Sam panicked, his eyes wide with fear.

"Calm down, for starters." Alicia spoke up, glaring at the short mechanic sternly. Then she looked to Penguin and Shachi. "Hurry and take him to the sickbay, the surgical ward."

"B—But Captain's…"

"Did I stutter?" Alicia's voice was cold as ice.

"Listen to her!" Brodie barked. "She knows what she's talking about!"

Shachi and Penguin stumbled to listen to the demands and helped support the blonde mechanic once more, careful not to disturb his fresh wounds anymore than they already had. The two head mechanics hurried down the hall and Alicia was quick to follow behind.

Brodie stood up quickly and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Check out the damage on Flevance, okay?"

Sam was still shaking, but then a look of determination crossed his eyes. He furrowed his brows and nodded. "Alright guys!" He hollered. "Let's fix any damages we can!"

The other crew members all nodded, rushing back into the misty boiler room at the short mechanic's lead. Instantly, there were the sounds of hammers on metal as the men got to work, and the bone mage was left in a strange situation. Ameria was unsure of who to follow, but she felt that either direction she went, she would be rendered useless to help.

Before Brodie left, he looked to the baffled bone mage. "Go find Sal," he told her.

"W—Why?" Ameria asked.

"To make food for Captain and Nigel," Brodie answered. "This'll drain Captain's stamina given Nigel's injuries because he'll have to work in one session. Healing burns doesn't cause as much trauma as bullet wounds as you've seen. And Nigel, well, he'll need to start regaining his energy as soon as possible, you know? The process hurts in the moment, but it's safer in the long run."

"O—Oh…" Ameria frowned, shifting on her feet nervously.

Brodie placed a hand on the bone mage's shoulder and he offered her a kind smile. "Ask Sal if you can help him make something, if you want to do more, alright?"

Ameria's frown turned into a thin line and then determination flickered across her blue eyes. She nodded firmly before racing off to find the cook while Brodie hurried back to the sickbay where Law was impatiently waiting in the surgical ward. The surgeon pulled a pair of elastic gloves over his hands, the rubber snapping against his wrists, and his tall shadow loomed over the blonde mechanic's unconscious body lying on the surgical table.

Law's grey eyes flickered to the open door, a grave look on his features and he ordered: "_Hurry._"

Brodie didn't delay and he prepared the blonde mechanic for surgery. Nigel's skin was extremely damaged, but that was only on the surface. The surgeon inspected his patient's condition and saw that the explosion caused internal injuries.

"Fractured wrist… Two broken ribs…" Law murmured as his hands prodded the blonde mechanic's side. Then he paused, his hands freezing in place so his fingers could inspect the curious spot. Law pursed his lips in thought. "Three. Three broken ribs."

"Are you going to use your powers?" Brodie asked, eyeing the surgeon.

"This should be fairly simple," Law replied. "Miss Bones and even Mister Straw Hat gave me some…well-earned practice."

"Don't overdo it," Brodie warned. "You know what could happen…"

"That's why I have you here, Mister Brodie," Law smirked and held out his hand. "_Room,_" and a blue sphere the size of a basketball hovered above his palm.

Law was delicate as he melded his powers into the operation, weaving a healing touch upon the blonde mechanic's external and internal injuries. Brodie remained vigilant by Law's side, making sure the surgeon didn't subconsciously push his patient's limits. Nigel regained consciousness during the middle of the procedure and vocally complained about the pain. The surgeon wasn't able to heal all of the blonde mechanic's wounds since his powers were directly connected to his stamina. When the operation was done, Law and Brodie transported Nigel to the infirmary so the medical assistant could dress the remaining minor injuries. In the infirmary, Alicia the Tulip was eagerly waiting.

"I must say Doctor Trafalgar, the work you can perform with your Devil Fruit powers is _exquisite._"

She gingerly pinched and tugged the smooth skin of the blonde mechanic's cheek, which made Nigel wince. The author ignored the subtle growl and continued to revel in the medical expertise that could be performed by the Ope-Ope Devil Fruit user.

Alicia was in awe. With the state of the blonde mechanic's injuries, he should have had devastating scarring due to the severe burns. However, with the power of the Ope-Ope Fruit, the surgeon was able to regenerate the blonde mechanic's damaged skin. The one-of-a-kind surgery was long, but successful. The broken bones were a distant memory and the burns were faint. The burns on the blonde mechanic's face had been mild, so the faded scarred tissue would disappear within a matter of days. Though, she couldn't say the same of the blonde mechanic's numb arm that was fit snugly in the sling. The scars would be permanent, faint, but permanent nonetheless.

"Don't treat me like some specimen." Nigel snapped, jerking away from the author's curious touch.

"_Fufufu_…" Alicia mused, a twinkle in her aqua eyes as she held her narrow chin with her thumb and the side of her forefinger. "T'is the curse of a hungry scientist that craves more knowledge, dear gent."

Nigel was not amused and he sent her another angry scowl before slouching into the propped pillows of the cot, grumbling profanities about stupid boilers, ugly scars, painful surgeries and unnecessary haircuts.

"I could have done better," the irritated tone of the surgeon cut in. There was a sour expression on Law's shadowed features as he stared at his handiwork upon the blonde mechanic. "But overexerting my powers affects my stamina. I have to be careful…"

Alicia's brow slightly arched. "Is this about what happened the other night?" She asked curiously. "Madame Bones seemed to handle whatever the situation was rather well. I believe you should feel free to do the best you can when it comes to your operations, correct?"

Law's aggravated demeanor vanished. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away with a frown. "Not all situations will be as ideal as that."

"Scorpions weren't the _first_ thing, anyway," Nigel huffed. "I don't even wanna know what comes next."

"_Hmm,_" Alicia hummed. "I believe that is the price to pay for adopting a former member of the Straw Hat Pirates."

Law sighed at the comment.

"That aside," Alicia continued. "I think you're rather lucky, Doctor Trafalgar." she smiled. "Most mages treat an outsider with a cold shoulder, so to speak. Your little sorceress from the famous RC trusts you quite a lot."

Law's eyes flickered open wide and he whipped his attention on the author, startled.

Brodie shared his captain's bewildered silence.

"_Huh?_" Nigel blinked in confusion.

Alicia returned the baffled expression. "Yes?"

"Excuse me?" Law spoke up, his brows knotting together.

"The mages of RC are usually very reserved," Alicia began to explain. "So, the likelihood of her speaking about anything would have been rather low—"

"_Wait, wait, wait,_" Law waved his hand frantically to stop her. "How do you know about anything at all, Miss Alicia? I didn't even know magic was real until I met Ameria at Sabaody a few months ago."

"Oh." Alicia's ruby lips formed a perfect o as she held out the note. "You don't know, do you? A former professor at the University of Athens thoroughly researched the mages of the West Blue and wrote a book on them."

Law felt his jaw slam against the floor. "You're kidding me."

"Sadly, no." Alicia huffed, looking away unamused and she crossed her arms over her chest. "It's just one simple volume, and I'll be honest, it sounded like a bunch of conspiracy theories. However, he had reliable sources, making it very hard to deny that an island such as that exists in the West Blue. However…" She trailed off, cradling her chin in thought. "The presence of Madame Bones now validates all his theories…"

"I see…" Law pursed his lips in thought. "Miss Alicia…do you mind telling me the title of this book…?"

"_Fufufu,_" Alicia chuckled. "Why so curious, Doctor Trafalgar? Are you concerned about something? Afraid of pressing too much? My, my! How would Madame Bones feel about you having this book if you don't have the courage to ask her in person?"

Law blinked and shifted uncomfortably on his heels; he was unsure of how to answer that.

"_Fufufu,_" The author laughed again, an amused twinkle in her eyes. "My apologies. I did not mean to shake your faith in the trust she holds for you."

Law scowled and he opened his mouth to snap a few choice words at her, but the sickbay's door suddenly opened.

Ameria walked in, balancing a tray that held two bowls of steamy soup in the middle, and there was a small smile on her features. "I brought food…" she started to say, but trailed off when she noticed how uncomfortable everyone's stare was. "_Um…_" She shifted awkwardly on her heels.

"Well, Doctor Trafalgar?" Alicia deviously mused.

Law's scowl darkened.

"Your chance has come, my fine gent!" Alicia dramatically proclaimed, one hand at her chest and the other waving in a sweeping motion to point at the confused bone mage. "The curtain has risen! The lights have dimmed and you have center stage! Behold, it is time to ask that fated question and satisfy the cat-like curiosity within your burning heart!"

A bead of sweat came to the bone mage's brow and she looked to the surgeon. "W—What's going on?"

"I'm getting a run for my money," Law groaned. "That's what's going on."

"This is gonna be a_ looooong_ trip," Nigel sighed. "Ain't it?"

"_Nigel!_" Brodie scolded as he put his hands on his hips.

"Perhaps," Alicia replied with an innocent smile.

"Ignore her, Miss Bones," Law sighed and he massaged his temple. "You brought food? Hand it over, if you will."

Ameria blinked and remained silent for a moment. "R—Right…"

Then she hurried to comply with the order while Brodie took one of the bowls from off the tray. Law tipped his hat toward the bone mage when she handed him the bowl and he sat down at his desk, kicking up his feet to enjoy his meal. Ameria took a seat on a stool beside the surgeon, subconsciously reaching out for one of the textbooks on the desk and she started to flip through the pages. Brodie walked over and gave the second bowl to Nigel, and the blonde mechanic didn't hesitate downing the meal as if it were a hardy drink.

Brodie glared at Nigel. "You were given a spoon for a reason."

"_Hmph,_" Nigel huffed, wiping the back of his hand across his lips. "I ain't the only one," and he jerked his head towards the surgeon.

Brodie grumbled when he saw that Law had also treated the bowl like a cup, drinking the contents and ignoring the spoon he was given.

Law placed the empty bowl on the desk and then extended his arm out to the side, resting it snugly across the bone mage's shoulders. "That aside, we should discuss our next course of action, Miss Tulip," he looked toward the author. "What's the first stop on your rather hectic adventure?"

Alicia was silent for a moment, eyeing the bone mage that didn't bat an eyelash to the surgeon's gesture. There was a ghost of a smile on her lips before it quickly vanished into a serious frown. "There will be a number of islands we must investigate for ingredients," the author began. "I discussed the route with Mister Cleon and—"

Before Alicia had the chance to continue, the door to the infirmary flung open and slammed against the wall. All heads snapped to the doorway, their ears ringing as the metallic jitter resonated throughout the room while the head mechanics eagerly toppled over each other to get inside. The two men pushed and shoved each other by the cheeks until Shachi overcame his mate, and roared at the top of his lungs:

"_Captain!_" His eyes were so wide that his dark sunglasses couldn't conceal the surprised expression held within them. "We're goin' to _Doubloon!?_"

Then Penguin shoved Shachi away, quickly asking: "Is it true? Is it really true!?"

Law blinked, staring at the excited looks on Penguin's and Shachi's faces. The two grown men looked like a pair of giddy children. They bounced on the balls of their heels, and they leaned so far forward, their heads slightly turned to the side so their ears could hear the gripping news that they were going to the zoo. Then Law looked back at Alicia, his brow arched in curiosity. "Well?"

"It would indeed be Doubloon," Alicia answered. "As I was saying, I gave all my eternal log poses to your navigator while you were busy with Mister Nigel's surgery. It would seem the rest of your crew is already aware of where my…hectic adventure will lead us."

"There's a _huuuge_ blackmarket ring in Doubloon!" Penguin anxiously stated, grinning widely. "We can finally get Worldly Iron to upgrade Flevance! Our baby will be ten-times stronger for the New World!"

"And less repairs!" Shachi shouted in relief. "Less, fucking, _REPAIRS!_"

Law hummed in thought, his finger curling around a strand of the bone mage's hair. "Doubloon…" he repeated the name slowly. "That's quite a large industrial island, I believe. I've heard rumors that the Blackmarket Mafia established a ring there to take advantage of the economy because of the inflated prices and taxes. However, I've heard there's a large Marine base, too…"

"Fort Allison," Alicia clarified. "It's well-known due to the fact that the famous Commodore Corvallis is stationed there to protect the miners employed by the World Government. And speaking of the Commodore…I shall be needing to meet with him…"

Law's brow rose, his interest piqued.

"Why the fuck do you need to see the _Marines?_" Nigel eyed the author warily.

"_Nigel!_" Brodie snapped. "Don't be rude!"

Alicia cast aside the suspicious looks and continued on. "Gas masks," she answered bluntly. "Like I mentioned, there are an abundance of miners working in the caves of Doubloon that have rather toxic and dangerous chemicals. The World Government issued a large patch of gas masks to counteract the bad working conditions. Since my mission involves traveling into rather poisonous situations, I thought it would be best to be prepared. Also, do note that I ordered these masks well _before_ I asked the Heart Pirates for safe passage to my many destinations."

"_Tch,_" Nigel scoffed.

"See," Brodie smirked. "It was for our safety."

"However…" Alicia added on with a frown. "I will need a few men to accompany me to the fort. I shall need help transporting my order to the submarine. I think it would be in our best interest that we don't have the Marines walking up to our doorstep. I suggest that whomever aids me goes undercover, if possible."

Law nodded. "We'll make it work."

"But…" Ameria finally spoke up, shifting back and forth nervously as she thumbed a page of the textbook. "Isn't it still a bad thing that we're docking at an island with a large Marine Base protecting World Government efforts…" Her frown deepened and her cheeks turned a lighter shade of white as she looked toward the surgeon anxiously. "What if there are World Government Officials there…"

"It's possible," Law replied. "But there are always blind spots to hide in, Miss Bones… We just need to be careful."

"We'll need to be hangin' in the shadows anyway, Ameria." Shachi added on. "We'll be dealing with the Blackmarket Mafia. They are hidden real good in the underground where no one can see 'em."

"We're lucky we picked up the password back at Sabaody when we started looking for Worldly Iron," Penguin stated wryly.

"Do you think it'll be enough money?" Brodie inquired worriedly. "I know Miss Alicia gave us a good amount for a commission fee, but we were told that Wordly Iron was stupid expensive when we got the password, y'know? The stuff is supposed to be for government use only.""…We have a breadwinner?" Penguin replied, smiling slyly at the author.

"You will not receive another beli from me until my mission is complete," Alicia scoffed, her brow twitching in irritation. "You are well aware of the terms of our agreement. You were there."

"But the upgrades will make it easier and faster~" Penguin tried to persuade the author, but his attempt only annoyed her even more.

"Don't push her, Mister Shachi," Law lightly warned. "We'll jump that hurdle when we get there."

Ameria scratched her cheek and pursed her lips in thought. "If you're worried about the cost…maybe I can help?"

"_You?_" Nigel scoffed in disbelief.

"Ameria…" Shachi frowned. "You were just freaking out about the Marines and the World Government…you _do_ know that the Blackmarket Mafia is just as bad, yeah? It's like, the same thing, but on the other side of the spectrum."

"I can handle the shadier side of the spectrum," Ameria replied. "I haven't been one for long, but I am a pirate. This is something I _can_ help with. Well, more like my father can help with—_err_, his connections rather. Maybe I can get a discount?"

"Err…" Shachi looked at Penguin.

"Yeah…" Penguin murmured skeptically.

"Okay…" Shachi looked to the corner of the room.

"Right…" Penguin looked down at the floor.

"I-It's true!" Ameria stuttered, her cheeks flaring an embarrassed shade of red.

"_Hmm,_" Law purred, smirking in amusement. "Why not give it a try, eh? Miss Bones has proved she can handle in a pinch thanks to her little demon—" and he noticed that his bone mage wasn't pleased when he called the spirit that. "So, might as well give it a shot. I would indeed love a discount if she can manage one."

The annoyed look on Ameria's features melted into relief. "Thank you for giving me a chance."

"Captain, are you serious?" Shachi gawked. "You can't—you can't just send her into a _blackmarket_ den by herself!"

"I'm not," Law was blunt.

Penguin and Shachi were locked into a staring contest with Law, and the surgeon easily won.

"Damnit," Penguin hung his head.

"Keep her safe, boys," Law grinned. "You know her track record hasn't been the best."

Ameria frowned at the comment, a guilty look in her blue eyes.

"She's getting better though," Law added, pulling her closer to his side. "Don't worry, I'll have your back, _bella donna_."

Ameria rolled her eyes and huffed, unamused.

Law chuckled in response.

"_Oh-ho-ho?_" Alicia's brow rose when she saw the exchange, an amused gleam in her eyes.

Law's bright mood was dampered and he scowled at the author. "Anyway," he sighed, standing up from his seat quickly. "We have a number of things to complete once we hit Doubloon. Let's start making preparations for it, alright?"

"Shachi and I will make a list of the things that'll need to be upgraded." Penguin told the surgeon. "Maybe Cleon can help crunch some numbers for what our price might be. If we go in with an estimate, maybe we—_err_, Ameria, can haggle something for a discount?"

"Inspect the repairs from the explosion first," Law ordered the head mechanics. "I want that boiler replaced as soon as we dock. I don't care if it's connected to Worldly Iron or not."

"Will do," Penguin nodded.

"Aye, aye, Captain," Shachi sent his captain a short salute.

Then the two head mechanics left the infirmary, which made the blonde mechanic fidget restlessly on the cot where he laid.

"_Ugh,_" Nigel scoffed. "I'll just sit here doin' nothin' then."

"You need the rest," Brodie huffed, and the blonde mechanic groaned in response.

"I shall start making a few calls then," Alicia smiled. "I might be able to pull a few strings thanks to my father's contacts. Doubloon is considered the Government's Golden Trove of the New World for a reason, I'll have you know."

"Then…what should I do now?" Ameria asked, standing up from her seat. "Just the usual?"

"But of course, Miss Bones," Law mused. "I believe it's time for your daily lessons…" and he started to make his way toward the bone mage. "Your bucket _is_ waiting for you in the study."

Ameria tried to inch away, like a turtle retreating back into its shell, but the surgeon's fingers coiled around her hand and tugged her away. The bone mage tried to resist and dug her heels into the floor, but it proved pointless. Law dragged her out of the sickbay, leaving a very bemused audience behind.

"He has _waaaay_ too much fun teasing her," Nigel sighed, shaking his head.

Brodie chuckled and sheepishly scratched the side of his cheek. "She makes it too easy, though…"

"Well," Alicia grinned. "You do know what they say about that, correct…?"

"Oh?" Brodie eyed the author curiously.

"**No**," Nigel scowled at the author. "Don't even go there."

"Fine, fine." Alicia chuckled, raising her hand in defense. "I shall leave it be. I do have my own tasks to take care of, after all." Then she turned on her heel and lazily sent the two men a wave over her shoulder. "Make sure the patient doesn't do anything reckless, Doctor Brodie."

Nigel didn't get the chance to bite out a retort since the author quickly left the sickbay. He growled at the closed door and then he slouched against the pillows. "She gets on my nerves, the damn brat…"

"Learn to deal with it," Brodie sighed. "She's gonna be here for awhile."

"I _knoooow_," Nigel groaned. "She's really gonna give us a run for our money."

* * *

Ameria stiffly sat down on one of the large crates that cluttered the dock. Her shoulders were tense, and she pursed her lips into a thin line, staring at the tip of her boots. She felt foreign eyes boring a hole into the back of her head. Then loud footsteps from behind made her jump in her seat, but her racing heart settled down when she saw it was only Jim, Andy and Charlie. The three pilots walked across the wide wooden pier, the men dressed in casual clothing instead of their usual uniforms. The pilots were bundled up in thick wool sweaters and they wore oily denim overalls. Then atop their heads were matching blue caps that had **NORTH BLUE** written in bold black letters.

Jim plopped down beside her on the wide crate, sighing in relief. He plucked the worn toothpick from between his teeth and tossed it into the bay's water. "_Finally!_" The pilot grinned and eagerly pulled a box of cigarettes and then a lighter from his front pocket. "I can smoke in peace without Brodie hounding me 'bout lung cancer."

"He's just looking out for you, y'know?" Charlie countered.

"Yeah, yeah," Jim waved it aside.

Andy shimmied closer to the crate, eyeing Jim as the pilot removed a single cigarette from the tiny box. "Lemme have a ciggie, Jimmie," and Andy tried to swipe one.

"No way in hell, asshole!" Jim swatted the artillery technician's hand away and then he shoved the box deep inside his pocket for safety. "Buy your own!"

"Do you know how expensive it'd be to buy one_ here?_" Andy snapped. "Plus you give Mike one whenever he asks!"

"'Cause Mike spares me a few when I'm out from time to time," Jim scoffed and placed the butt of the cigarette between his lips. Then he flicked open his lighter and lit the cigarette, an instant wisp of fresh nicotine and added chemicals released into the air.

Andy puffed out his cheeks, disappointed, but then his gaze flickered to the bone mage, noticing her pale complexion. "Look!" and he jabbed a finger towards her. "You're upsettin' Ameria!"

"_Huh?_" Ameria blinked. She looked around, confused. "What? No?" She cocked her head to the side, her mind processing the situation. Then she waved a dismissing hand towards the two. "I'm fine with him smoking."

Jim sent the artillery technician a smug smirk before he looked back at the bone mage, frowning lightly in concern. "You look troubled still," he pointed out. "What's up?"

"I…" Ameria hugged her arms, trying to surpass a shudder. "I just get this feeling that I'm being watched."

"Probably Jim wantin' to touch your boo—"

Jim showed no mercy and popped up from his seat and sucker-punched Andy square in the cheek, knocking the artillery technician over flat on his back. "_Shut. Up._" The pilot hissed venomously. "One time. One-_fucking_-time! And, mentally, I wasn't really all there!"

Andy peeled his back from the dock and growled, rubbing his swollen cheek. "B—_Bastard!_"

Charlie chuckled anxiously at his mates bickering, but then he turned his attention to Ameria. "Now that you mention it…" the maintenance technician mumbled and he scratched his cheek in thought. "I kinda have the same feeling. Like, ever since we started unloading this morning, we've been watched by…_someone_, I dunno."

"_Hmph,_" Jim huffed, abruptly ignoring any other insults the artillery technician tried to throw at him. "I wonder who's spying on us now…"

The four didn't get a chance to discuss as tiny _clicks_ rapped against the wooden dock. Alicia the Tulip strolled down the pier with the surgeon and the two head mechanics close behind. Law listened quietly to Shachi and Penguin as the two men whispered worriedly in his ears. There was a thoughtful crease on the surgeon's brow, but he never said anything to cleanse his head mechanics' minds. Alicia disregarded the conversation and continued on, her white coat fluttering behind her so the morning sunlight could dance across her shiny blue babydoll dress.

Then the clicks of the author's orange pumps came to a stop. "Are we ready, gentlemen?" Alicia inquired, eyeing the three pilots. "I see you are wonderfully cloaked in disguises. Hopefully, you are not recognizable to the Marines. You are infamous by association courtesy of your dear captain's actions."

Andy pursed his lips together in thought, but then his eyes flickered with enthusiasm when his mind quickly conjured an idea. "We'll just-_tuh_ whippa outta the stupid accents n' it'll-_uh_-be-_uh_ fiiiione," the artillery technician responded in a horrible accent. He forced his voice into a slow, high-pitched tone that made the author flinch in physical pain.

"Dem dumb_ bastas_ will _neva_ see it comin'!" Jim joined in, his tone gravelly like sandpaper against cement.

"_Oui_," Charlie added in the most dreadful French accent he could possibly muster.

Alicia stared at the three pilots, a dead look in her eyes. "..._Do not speak_."

"_Tch_," Andy scoffed. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked away in irritation. "How rude."

"I think Miss Alicia is right," Law cut in, glaring at three. "Let her do the talking at the base. I'll trust she knows what she is doing."

"No faith in us, Captain?" Jim frowned, placing a hand over his heart. "I'm hurt."

"I'd rather not have to whippa ya outta jail 'cause dem dumb bastas saw it comin', _capisce?_" Law told them, whipping out a very precise and clean Italian accent as he spoke.

"Alright, alright," Jim cast aside their plan with a wave of his hand. "You win, you win. Our lips are zipped."

"And keep them sealed," Alicia snapped, the author anxiously tapping her foot against the pier. "I do not wish to be dragged to the gallows for allying with pirates. The World Government and Marines have started to apply more pressure upon those who aid pirates, even if those pirates' intentions are good. We will be entering a lion's den, so I expect you three to be on your _best_ behaviors."

Then Alicia pivoted on her tall heel and walked away, which made the pilots send their captain a pointed glare. It was a stare that resembled three young children forced to go to the zoo with their wacky foreign aunt and they silently pleaded with their father for mercy. And their father was merciless. Law scowled at them angrily and jerked his head toward the author. The three pilots got the hint; their heads hung low as they shuffled behind Alicia like three little ducklings. The surgeon sighed at the sight, but then he shook his head. He knew his men would be fine with the author so he didn't dwell, especially since he had other things to focus on.

"Now…" Law looked to the bone mage, his brow arched in curiosity. "Miss Bones, are you ready?"

"_Yup!_" Ameria popped up from the crate she had been quietly sitting on. Then she clapped her hands together, the sound echoing softly in the breeze, and she smiled confidently. "My plan will work. I know it."

Law nodded in approval, but he would quietly admit to himself that he was a little concerned because of his little bone mage's track record. At least the head mechanics would be with her, but they were not thrilled by the idea. The surgeon felt their presence looming over his shoulders.

"Getta ready to whippa us outta the mafia dungeons," Shachi whispered.

"_Oui,_" Penguin added.

Law rolled his eyes, ushering the head mechanics to leave, and the surgeon watched as the bone mage followed after the two men into the dark alleys beside the grimy docks.

Then Law checked in with the rest of his crew to make sure they were hard at work before he left with his medical assistant on a little trip to the local bookstore. The tiny shop was located in the busy downtown square of Doubloon; nestled in a crooked alleyway and squished between other narrow buildings. It was best to avoid the crowded mainstreet, but since the surgeon didn't cause a scene (like other pirates were known to do) most civilians left him be. The interior of the bookstore was just as narrow as its exterior and the clerk at the front desk didn't bat an eyelash as the two pirates waltzed through the door. It was still fairly early in the morning, so there was not a soul within the building, giving the pirates free reign to explore.

Law slowly strolled alongside the old shelves, his fingertips running across the many velvet spines of textbooks. He inspected the golden titles printed on each one, the names belonging to many prominent professors and doctors of Athens University. There were documentations about all sorts of experiments and research, and also the many different histories and cultures of notable countries around the world.

Then he paused mid-step, his eyes narrowed sharply when he felt an uncomfortable chill run down his spine. He whipped around, his attention on the store front. He scanned the scene warily, but all he saw was the clerk, the old man ideally reading a book at the front desk.

"_Ooh!_" Brodie's giddy tone broke the surgeon from his trance. The medical assistant smiled and snatched a book from the shelf. "The new medical journal by Doctor Lockhart Wesson—" then all eagerness on the medical assistant's features melted away when he turned the book over to look at the price-stamp. Slowly, he put the textbook back. "Nevermind."

Law arched his brow in curiosity, but then dismissed it. Doubloon was a city well-known in the New World for sucking the money out of every soul that set foot upon their shores, even from its own citizens. Intense taxes aided the aristocracies expensive lifestyle and it showed. There was a massive district on a mountain that overlooked Doubloon filled with two dozen castles, but it was only for five royal families. Those nobles were lucky the government took particular interest in the strong irons and ores within the island. There would be many riots and rebellions if it weren't for Fort Allison squashing any acts of violence on the Royals of Doubloon.

With that in mind, the surgeon knew the book would be pricey, but he wanted that fabled book on mages. He was too curious to pass it up, especially if he knew more about magic, then he could possibly help his little bone mage become stronger. In the end, his search turned out to be fruitless.

Law drew back from the shelves with a frown.

"I can't seem to find it either…" Brodie sighed.

Law pursed his lips in thought and pivoted on his heel, walking over to the front desk. "Mister Clerk," he addressed the old man and then dug through the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a tiny piece of folded paper. "I'm looking for this book…" he trailed off, showing the owner the small scrap of paper that Alicia had given to him that morning.

The owner leaned forward, straining his weary eyes to read the fine cursive-script. "_Hmmmmmmm,_" he hummed, sliding the round glasses perched on his brow over his eyes. "**Ah!**" and then his irises gleamed as he smiled brightly. "That's a wonderful work of fiction! A great mixture of scientific study and deduction of the fabled world of magic all the while placed in our modern society! I've read it a few times myself, and my grandchildren adore it!"

Law blinked, his steely eyes completely blank.

"…F—_Fiction?_" Brodie repeated, a bead of sweat on his brow.

The owner didn't sense the mood as he merrily moved away from the front desk, waving a hand over his shoulder to the surgeon. "Please, follow me. I'll show you where it is."

Law watched the old man that waddled away deeper into the store, maneuvering around the tall bookshelves. The surgeon was about to follow in line, but a sudden chill ran down his spine again. His eyes flickered to the bookstore window, but there was nothing in the narrow alley. Then his eyes narrowed with his gut started to feel something amiss despite his eyes denying the thought.

Law stood there a moment until his medical assistant nudged him in the arm. The surgeon tore his gaze from the window and followed after the clerk. The old man was in an aisle dedicated to children's fiction, and he pulled a book from the shelf. The cover was worn brown leather, and the front was stamped with a blue ink that read: The RC: the Collection of Wizards. The clerk dusted off the cover before handing it to the surgeon. After Law purchased the book, which was indeed expensive, he began the long walk back to the submarine and his medical assistant didn't comment on their roundabout route.

"So…" Brodie finally spoke up, whispering to the surgeon softly. "You got the same feeling, right?"

"The feeling of being followed?" Law mused, smirking slyly. "I'm glad you catch on quickly, Mister Brodie, but… I'm tired of this. Room," and then the two disappeared from the street in the blink of an eye.

* * *

Alicia and the three pilots stood in the main square of Fort Allison, watching as the Marines ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. Superiors barked orders to the men and women, causing the Marines to frantically organize all the warehouses and clean every inch of the base. Not a single Marine noticed them, which was testing the author's patience. It was like being at a horrible restaurant where the server was more concerned with personal affairs and not their patrons that wanted the check so they could leave. Alicia tried to flag down yet another Marine, but he merely rushed by, leaving a plume of smoke in her face.

Her long orange pigtails whipped against her cheeks and she wiped specks of dust off her cheek. The author growled in annoyance and she sent the artillery technician a sharp look, her eyes narrow and unforgiving.

Andy responded with a quiet and confused look, but then his eyes flickered when he realized what Alicia wanted. He held his hands behind his back while whistling innocently and he stuck out his foot as another Marine passed by.

The marine lost his balance and fell to the ground face first, which made the pilots snicker.

The irritation on the author's face disappeared into a kind smile as the Marine looked up at her in shock. "Dear Gent…I'm Kandinsky Manettia Alicia of Athen's University," she introduced herself briefly. "I ordered a shipment of gas masks and I am here to retrieve them."

The Marine slowly got up, dusting off his pants as he mumbled: "Kan…din—_ah!_" Then his eyes opened wide. "That's right! Commodore Corvallis told us about that, b—but you're a few weeks late, ma'am!"

Alicia frowned as she stuffed her hands into the deep pockets of her white lab coat. "I hope my order was not discarded because I am tardy."

"O—Of course not!" The Marine shook his head wildly. "Please tell me where you'd like us to drop off the shipment at the docks. We'll send someone down as soon as possible."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Dear Gent, but the captain of the vessel I commissioned made certain I was accompanied by a few set of extra hands," and she held out her hand to the three pilots behind her. The lowly Marine didn't seem to recognize that the pirates were in disguise, even though said disguises were extremely basic. "In hindsight," the author continued. "I believe it was a wise decision on our part for the fine gentlemen and ladies of Fort Allison appear…_preoccupied._"

"Indeed, ma'am," the Marine nodded, ushering the author and pilots to follow him deeper into the fortress. As they walked, the Marine filled the silence with a bit of casual conversation. "We had a surprise visit from a Rear Admiral this morning. I'm not sure who it is because of that, but the guy's secretary made a comment about how Allison is dusty, so Commodore Corvallis wants this place to be spotless from top to bottom before the Rear Admiral leaves."

"_Oooooh,_" Alicia cooed, glancing back at the pilots with a small smile, which made the three men nod. "How interesting. I do hope your toil is successful and completed with haste."

"I hope so, too…but…" The Marine chuckled anxiously. "It feels like we're trying to impress the secretary rather than the Rear Admiral himself. I've heard he seems to be a real humble fellow that doesn't care about the little things, but you never know until you see him."

"_Fufufu,_" Alicia mused. "Indeed. He seems like a peculiar fellow…"

Alicia continued the banter with the Marine while the three pilots gathered and hauled the crates of gas masks to the entrance of Fort Allison. The Marine knew next to nothing about the Rear Admiral except for rumors, but the most valuable bit of information was the fact that a Rear Admiral was docked there. It would be something she knew the surgeon would like to hear. When they got back to the submarine, the author asked the pilots to take the crates to her guest room while she returned to the sickbay to see if the surgeon had returned. Alicia was in luck because Law was sitting idly at his desk with the morning newspaper; and the author took note that his new book was laying among the other textbooks on the metal surface.

"Welcome back, Miss Alicia!" Brodie greeted the author happily.

"Miss Alicia." Law tipped his hat towards the author as she walked in. "How did it go? Did you get your masks without any trouble? My boys didn't use their accents, right?"

"Thankfully, they were loyal men to the end—of the mission, mind you—and followed your orders," Alicia reported with a smile. "Which was appreciated because I gleaned compelling information from the fort that could be useful for our stay here."

"Excellent," Law smirked. "We'll discuss it later. I want to wait until Shachi, Penguin and Ameria return."

"_Uuuuh,_" Nigel's voice rang out, the blonde mechanic still confined to the infirmary cot. "Shouldn't they've come back by now?"

"Indeed," Alicia frowned. "It has been a few hours… Should we scout around the establishment where they went, Doctor Trafalgar?"

"I could round up a group or two," Brodie suggested. "Most of the basic repairs for Flevance are done, after all."

"Nope," Law was blunt. The surgeon folded the newspaper neatly and then tossed it onto a stack of textbooks. "You know what they say: good fortune comes to those who wait."

Then on cue, Ameria, Shachi and Penguin entered the sickbay safe and sound.

Law smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Right on time."

Ameria skipped into the room with a gleeful pep in her step while Shachi and Penguin shuffled in behind her; the two men looked completely drained. Ameria's attention was drawn to the desk, the bone mage flittering to the textbooks while Shachi and Penguin went straight to the medicine cabinets. The pair pushed and shoved each other to see what was inside.

"Do we got anything to fix this throbbing pain in the back of my head?" Shachi asked the surgeon. "The stress shaved a few years off my life."

Law's brow arched. "That bad?"

"I have no idea," Shachi answered.

Law's curiosity morphed into confusion, his brows furrowing together in a tight knot.

Shachi held a hand up. "You don't wanna know."

Law pursed his lips in thought and he glanced at his little bone mage; she seemed well and unharmed. "Well, judging by Miss Bone's chipper attitude when she walked in…I'll assume it went well."

Ameria looked up at him, holding a leather textbook in her hands. "You bought this?"

Law's amused expression shattered, a blank slate replacing the emotion. He felt his heart stop for a second when he looked over and saw that his little bone mage was holding the textbook on mages. He took a second to try and conjure a reasonable explanation that wouldn't sour her mood, but he didn't get the chance.

"I informed the good doctor about the book," Alicia spoke up, smiling slyly. "He was rather curious when he found out there was a reliable textbook on magic…"

Law flinched; the author so readily threw him to the sharks.

"Oh?" Ameria sat down on the little stool beside the surgeon out of habit and opened the book, flipping through the thin pages. "I read it once before."

"Is that so?" Alicia mused, a curious twinkle in her eyes. "I find that surprising. I have read it myself, and considering the contents and how the contents describe your people, I would assume a mage such as yourself would despise a book that openly documents your culture."

"Yeah," Ameria mumbled in agreement as she stopped on a particular page. "There are people who really hate it, but there are people who don't care."

"Which one are you, Madame Bones?" Alicia inquired.

Law flinched again. He heard the deviousness in the author's tone, and he felt the question was aimed directly at him. _She's enjoying this too much_…he thought.

"_Hmm,_" Ameria hummed in thought, staring down at the open book. "Honestly, I didn't like it when I read it. I was taught that privacy meant secrecy, so a book like this contradicted my beliefs. But…" she trailed off. "That was before I got a chance to leave my home and learn that there are outsiders that I can trust with my secrets and be friends with."

Law blinked, watching as his bone mage continued to flip through the book aimlessly with a soft smile on her lips.

Alicia placed a hand over her grinning ruby lips. "_Oooooh-ho-ho,_" she chuckled, glancing down at the surgeon.

Law noticed the stare and his brow began to twitch when he saw the entertained expression on the author's face. "_Tch,"_ he felt his jaw lock. "That aside… How did it go, Miss Bones? The deal?"

"Oh," Ameria's head popped up and she looked toward the surgeon. "We got it free of charge."

"_Free!?_" Nigel gawked, his eyes wide. "You got the Blackmarket Mafia to give it to you free of charge?! How the hell did you do that!?"

Law looked at the head mechanics, expecting them to explain, but both men merely shrugged; they were just as bewildered by the event and they were present for said event.

"What?" Nigel scoffed when there was no immediate explanation presented. "Did she suck his—?"

"**NIGEL!**" Brodie roared, scowling lividly at the blonde mechanic.

Ameria was immune to the blonde mechanic's crude assumption and curtly explained: "I told you my dad had connections. I used them."

"They are coming tonight to upgrade shit," Penguin groaned. "It suddenly became their top priority. It'll be done tomorrow night."

"Is that so…" Law trailed off, glancing toward his little bone mage sitting comfortably beside him. "Your father must have some strong connections to the blackmarket, Miss Bones."

"S—Should we be worried about that?" Brodie mumbled, a bead of nervous sweat on his brow.

"I don't know?" Law replied, uncertain. He slid across the floor in his rolly-chair, closing the distance between himself and his little bone mage, and he nestled up beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, asking: "Should we?"

"No."

"And there you have it," Law replied. "We have our Worldly Iron and that pretty penny from Miss Alicia remains in our pocket for a rainy day."

"Then can I have a bed?" Ameria asked.

Law blinked.

"It's pouring out," Ameria declared.

Law smirked, amused by his little bone mage's response. "...I _do_ hear the rain. I think you earned that bed since you got us all that Worldly Iron for free. Nigel," the surgeon looked at the blonde mechanic. "I think you need to stretch your legs, go for a walk with Ameria."

"**Yeeessssss!**" Nigel hissed in pure joy and he leapt out of the cot, his arm easily slipping from the sling as he pumped both his fists into the air. Before anyone could say a word, the blonde mechanic bolted to the door, racing outside the room as fast as he could.

Law stared at the open doorway to the sickbay and then sighed. "…Brodie. Go with them, if you would."

"You got it," Brodie nodded and he waved the bone mage over. "Come on, Ameria."

The pair left, and the surgeon was quick to usher orders to those remaining in the sickbay. Law told the head mechanics to prep the crew for when the mafia came to upgrade the submarine. He didn't want those goons pulling a fast one on them; the surgeon and bone mage did have worthwhile bounties on their heads. Then Law and Alicia had a brief discussion about what she learned at the base. When Alicia left the sickbay, Law was alone with only his thoughts. The surgeon was concerned when the author told him a Rear Admiral was docked at Doubloon. Law didn't know who it was, and quite frankly, he didn't want to find out.

As his mind churned in turmoil, loud bangs engulfed the sickbay. The sounds echoed through the pipes and ricocheted off the metal walls. The Mafia arrived and began the upgrades on Flevance, and one small thing he noticed managed to distract him from his worries. His crew was harsh toward the mafia members, his men wary of betrayal. The thing that the surgeon noticed was that the mafia members were scared; it was strange. Then the mafia members outside the sickbay door squealed like frightened pigs, scrambling down the hall from whomever approached the door.

To his surprise, it was Ameria.

His little bone mage stood in the open doorway, shifting anxiously on her feet. She didn't step over the threshold, like she was a vampire waiting impatiently for an invitation.

"_Meow._"

Law's brow furrowed when he heard the muffled squeak. Then his eyes opened wide when he witnessed his little bone mage cradling a very tiny black and white kitten in her arms. He stared at her for a few minutes, his eyes flickering between the silent bone mage and the mewling kitten. Then he spoke. "_Why?_"

Ameria pursed her lips and glanced away when she heard the obvious annoyance in his tone. "Well…I found her in an alleyway stuck under a cardboard box," and she nuzzled the little kitten to her cheek. "The poor darling was scared and all alone…"

Law was silent. He opened his mouth to say something, but he had nothing to say in response. She had rendered him speechless once more.

"Can I keep her?"

"What?" Law blinked. "No," he shook his head. "No, no you cannot keep her."

Ameria frowned, a glossy film over her blue eyes. "Please," she begged. "We can't just abandon her."

"Don't make this a 'we' thing, Miss Bones."

"But I _did_ get you your upgrades for free…" Ameria smiled sweetly, trying to persuade him.

"And I believe you requested a proper bed as a reward," Law countered. "I'm sure it must be getting installed as we speak. You and Miss Alicia will have _oodles_ of fun with a set of bunk beds."

"But look at her!" Ameria snapped, storming into the room to shove the very tiny kitten into the surgeon's face. "Are—Are you really going to make me put her back? In the dark and cold alley…? A-All by herself?"

Law stared at the little ball of fur inches from his face and the little feline meowed cutely. Then a little paw gently batted his nose, tiny claws lightly brushing against his skin. Law's brows furrowed and he plucked the kitten from her hands, cradling the animal close to his chest. "_God damnit,_" he cursed, swivelling around in his chair to hide the heat rising to his cheeks. "_Fine._"

Ameria squealed in delight and plopped down on the stool beside him. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his back. "_Thank yooooouuu, Law~_" she purred happily.

"Yeah, yeah," Law chuckled, smiling softly as he gently scratched the top of the kitten's head with his forefinger. "You're welcome, Ameria."

* * *

"I can't believe this damned city is charging us—_us of all people_—a fee to dock!"

"Oh, Miss Abigail…" The Rear Admiral sighed as he thumbed through a stack of beli, mentally counting the bills.

"I can't believe you're actually complying," Abigail snapped, glaring bitterly at her superior. "This is basically theft. We should be arresting these scum as if they're pirates."

The Rear Admiral rolled his eyes, ignoring his assistant and continued counting the money. "There," he stopped sorting and set aside the hefty stack then replaced the rest of the money inside a slick black leather briefcase. "100,000 exactly," and he tied the wad of cash with a thick red rubber band before handing it off to the silent subordinate that stood in front of his desk. "Take this to the dock manager."

The private nodded curtly to his superior, taking the stack and he gingerly placed it into a small sack with a dull green beli symbol stitched into the burlap material.

"And tell him he's a little scumbag," Abigail barked, her brows knotted in rage. "For charging the Marines to dock at a city we take the time to protect because of their local government's…_poor_ choices. The royal families are practically taxing everyone for a breath of air!"

"Ignore Miss Abigail…_please,_" the Rear Admiral told the Marine. "Don't even bring up the docking fee. Just give him the damn thing and be done with it."

"You know that monster will just come back, right?" Abigail scoffed. "That piece of filth made it clear that it was a daily fee."

The Rear Admiral sighed, but said nothing in response to his assistant and he turned to the Marine. "You're dismissed," and he waved a hand toward the private nodded and then briskly saluted his superior before pivoting sharply on his heel. Though, as soon as he opened the door, another Marine burst through the doorway, the teen tumbling to the floor of the office with a yelp.

The Rear Admiral stood up from his seat, his hands on his desk and he leaned forward. "Are you…alright?" He asked, a worried crease on his young Marine quickly leapt to his feet, the teen ignoring the red bruise on his nose and he quickly saluted his superior.

"S—Sir! S—Scout Williams r—r—r—reporting!" He shouted, nervous cracks in his tone.

"Mister Williams…" The Rear Admiral held up a hand as he settled back into the cushions of his chair. "Take a deep breath…and calm down."

The young Marine did as he was told, inhaling and exhaling sharply before he continued. "I was scoping out the port like you wanted a—and I—I saw Trafalgar Law's submarine! The—The Heart Pirates are docked here, too!"

"Oh?" The Rear Admiral's brow rose, intrigued. "You don't say…" and a sly smirk came to his lips as he tapped the armrest of his chair in thought. Then he turned his steely gaze towards his assistant. "I suppose we should look into this, Miss Abigail."


	11. Chapter 11

#  **Lovely Rear Admiral**

The construction on the submarine had ceased for the night, and the shouts turned into a faint murmur that belonged only to the pirates of the vessel. The mafia would be back first thing in the morning to finish the upgrades on Flevance, which left the crew time to inspect the goons handiwork. Shachi had reported to the surgeon about how he was impressed with the work so far. Law was pleased to hear the news, especially since he was preoccupied with his new patient and didn't have the time to inspect shoddy craftsmanship.

Law was hunched over his desk, the very tiny kitten wiggling anxiously on the metal surface as the surgeon inspected the animal, and Ameria anxiously watched him work. She was settled in close to his side, her arms wrapped around his and her cheek resting against his bicep. She refrained from asking questions, so not to interrupt the surgeon's concentration, but a loud startled mewl broke her silence.

"Don't hurt her."

"Him," Law corrected.

"Don't hurt _him._"

"Ameria," Law paused the examination and looked at her. "Do you honestly think, as a doctor, I am capable of hurting a patient under my care, even if it is an animal?"

"…"

"…"

Her silence made him scowl.

"Y-You get carried away sometimes…" Ameria admitted sheepishly.

Law pursed his lips in thought. "I…won't deny that." He agreed. "_But,_" he was quick to add. "That is only when I use my powers. I can heal myself without trouble or trauma. Sadly, that effect does not carry over when I use the same power on others, as you know firsthand… In anycase, since I'm not regenerating anything for the cat, you don't need to worry about me getting carried away."

"Does that mean there's nothing wrong?" Ameria inquired readily, squeezing his arm tightly.

"Nothing that needs regeneration, no," Law answered, frowning grimly. "There are still some issues. He has an ear infection, for one, but there could be more. I would need to take a sample for blood work… I'd also need a stool sample to see if he has worms… He feels unnaturally thin and there is this strange substance on his back paw… and…" The surgeon mumbled a number of things. His voice turned into a soft grumble, and he slipped away from her grasp as he pulled out a notepad and pen from the desk drawer. Law scribbled out a list, the items growing in number as he continued.

Ameria watched as the surgeon's brow wrinkled in frustration, which made her frown guiltily. "I can go out and get anything we need," she offered, tapping his shoulder to grab his attention. "I don't mind helping out in any way that I can, especially since I asked to keep him."

Law stopped writing and was silent for a moment, the frustrated crease turning into a worried crease on his brow. "While that sentiment is appreciated, I will hold on that offer for the time being."

"Is it because it'll be really expensive?" She asked. "Maybe I can get another favor from the Mafia. They told me that they're at my disposal."

Law blinked, staring at her for a minute before saying: "Interesting, but no. The price for supplies isn't a concern when it comes to caring for one of my patients, whether it be a person or animal. I actually don't want anyone to wander around for the moment…" Then he continued to write his lengthy list, but under his breath, he mumbled: "I need to get a group to investigate…"

Ameria shifted in her seat, but she didn't pry. She had a feeling that it had something to do with the sneaky spy that everyone felt watching them. Instead, she decided to change the topic; maybe it would help distract the surgeon since he looked stressed with worry.

She scooted closer to the surgeon and wrapped her arm around his again. "What do you think about the name Glory?" She asked him, smiling happily. "Doesn't that sound cute for a cute little kitten?"

Law looked over at her, his brow arched in curiosity. "Glory, _eh?_" Then he hummed in thought as he placed the pen down on top of the notepad and he reached out to stroke the very tiny kitten sleeping soundly on the desk. "I think I'd prefer something…_different._"

Ameria frowned. "You don't like it?"

"It's not that I _don't_ like it, per say, I just want something different," Law replied. "Like…Morgana."

"But that's a _girl's_ name!" Ameria protested.

"And _Glory_ doesn't sound at all feminine for a fair feline," Law teased.

Ameria pulled away from the surgeon and she crossed her arms over her chest. "But Morgana is clearly a girl's name. You can't just give a girl's name to a boy."

"_Ah-ah-ah,_" Law tsked, saying each note with a rhythmical pause in between, and he waved a finger back and forth in front of her face. "In the North Blue, there is a legend about a lucky cat named Morgana that protected the notorious Captain Skull's treasure from the Marines for 100 years. I think it would be fitting if we had a cat with the same name aboard the Flevance. Especially with your luck, yeah?"

Ameria frowned. "But you said I was getting better…"

Law smirked. "You can never be too sure," he mused, reaching out to curl a strand of her hair around his finger. "I want to have all my ducks in a row before your rotten luck strikes again. It might dull the effects of your curse."

Ameria swatted his hand away. "S-S-Stop it," she huffed, scowling at him when the tiny stutter in her voice made the surgeon chuckle in amusement. Not in the mood to be teased anymore, Ameria stood up from the stool and snatched the very tiny kitten along the way. Morgana mewled in surprise, his bright blue eyes darting around, but then they quickly closed as the feline fell asleep in her arms.

"Morgana stays in the sickbay," Law told her before she could leave the room. "He is my patient, even if he is a cat."

Ameria sent Law a sour look when she saw his cheeky smile. Then she pivoted on her heel and she made her way to one of the cots. Ameria laid down, getting comfortable on the thin mattress and then she placed Morgana on the pillow beside her head.

"I just bought you a new bed, you know?"

Ameria didn't respond.

Law got up from his seat with a heavy sigh and then went to one of the cabinets. He sifted through the contents and retrieved what he wanted. Then he walked over to the cot. The rustle of thick fabric drifted through her ears, and warmth enveloped her body when a blanket was laid on top of her.

Law crouched down beside the cot to look her in the eyes and then told her: "You're a real pain in my ass, you know that?"

"At least I didn't take Morgana out of the room," Ameria countered. "I still listened to what you said."

"Loopholes," Law smiled and reached out to gently pat her cheek. "That's what I like about you, Ameria," then he stood up and returned to the desk, browsing through a stack of files that Alicia had prepared for him.

The author had visited the sickbay briefly before she went to bed because she wanted Law to look over the documents about the many islands they would be visiting. The places they would go were dangerous, so the surgeon had to be thoroughly prepared. Then Alicia made a side comment about how he can read the little mage diary later, which had made Law nearly pop a blood vessel. While Law silently read and flipped through the pages, Ameria dozed off on the cot. It wasn't the first time she fell asleep in the sickbay, so she easily drifted off to sleep. The darkness was welcomed. The void and abyss was warm and blissful, but it only lasted a split second, just like a quick snap of her fingers. Something tugged on her hair, forcing her awake. She thought it was Morgana, but she groaned when she saw it was a tattooed hand that played with her hair.

Law stood over her with Morgana cradled to his chest, the very tiny kitten fitting comfortably in his palm. "Time to wake up, Ameria," the surgeon told her, pulling at her knotty ebony curls. "I'm surprised you slept like a log through all the construction. Finally used to it? Good. Anyway, it's almost 4 o'clock and I have a task for you."

Ameria peeled away from the thin mattress and rubbed the sand from her eyes. "What is it?" She groggily asked.

Law let go of her hair and pulled a folded slip of paper from his pocket. "You need to go out shopping," and he handed her the paper. "You said you'd handle the list for me, remember?"

Ameria looked over the messy list that filled the page. There was mostly kitten and cat supplies the surgeon mumbled about the previous night. However, toward the bottom of the page she saw items that had nothing to do with felines at all. It was a short list of small items: bacon jerky for Charlie, two packs of cigarettes for Jim and Mike, a lint roller for Bepo, a bag of caramel coffee for Sam and Brodie, a six pack of kiwi lemonade for Sal, and a charter magazine by the _Bluez Boyz_ for Cleon. A simple trip downtown and she could buy everything, but the bone mage felt oddly anxious about going out on her own. The prying eyes from the other day paired with the idea of being alone didn't seem wise. Maybe it was because the surgeon relentlessly teased her about her rotten luck and it stuck to her like a parasite.

"Should I really go out by myself?" She questioned. "Maybe someone should go with me? Remember yesterday…"

Law nonchalantly cast aside her concern with a wave of his hand. "The mafia is working on the upgrades and the boys need to watch them like hawks. If you're worried about being followed, I already have Shachi, Penguin and Bepo investigating the city. They just reported back a few minutes ago that nothing feels suspicious, which is why I decided to wake you up and send you on your way to the store. You will be fine on your own."

Ameria nodded and then got up from the cot with the list in hand. If she needed Law in a pinch, she still had that den-den mushi. She also had Bas, who _did_ help her handle a giant man-eating scorpion. That left her feeling a bit more confident that she could take care of a few lowly Marines if she crossed them. So, she left with confidence, except the moment she left the port, she instantly felt it. She tried to trust the surgeon's words that nothing was suspicious and it was only in her mind, but she couldn't.

Ameria tried her best to surpass the chill that ran down her spine, except it lingered: the unsettling sensation of eyes boring holes into her soul. The supposed quick trip to Doubloon Square suddenly became something dangerous, but she could handle it. Law said she would be fine, and she would trust his judgement. She still needed—no, she wanted to prove she was strong.

She darted down the first alleyway she saw, very aware that she would tip off her pursuers that she knew of their presence. She glided through the darkness, the shadows a black veil that was supposed to hide her away from the prying eyes, but they never vanished. Then a flurry of violent tremors shook the ground, a thunderous stampede of pounding feet charged down the alleyway. Before the bone mage even had time to react, a group of Marines appeared with rifles cocked and at the ready.

"**Surrender, Bones!**"

Instinctively, Ameria raised her hands when the muzzles were jabbed in her direction. Sweat dripped down her cheek and she gulped, her throat instantly dry. Then with a mental shake of her head, she cleared her mind and scowled at the Marines. Her hands high above her hand started glowing a wild shade of grey.

"_Ack—!_" She choked when a rifle's barrel was against her throat from behind, locking against her jaw. She struggled against the Marine's rifle, her knuckles turning white as she tried to push away the sturdy barrel, but it only made the man apply more pressure to restrain her.

The small line of Marines lowered their rifles, yet they were anything but relaxed. Caution gleamed in their dark eyes as they clutched their rifles close to their chests. One of the Marines from the row stuffed his hand into the deep pocket of his navy blue trousers and pulled out a tiny den-den mushi. The little snail's shell was a deep shade of blue with two vertical purple stripes that wrapped around the sides, and painted over those violet stripes were the white letters MRD.

Ameria growled at the sight, wrestling the Marine's rifle more intensely when she saw the little snail ring in its dull dial tone and then she shouted: "T—_Tanker now!_"

The noisy familiar popped out from the folds of her white jacket, a large vial that glowed red in his bony grasp. The Marines were startled by the familiar's presence and readied their rifles once more, but were too late. Tanker threw his alchemy concoctions to the cobblestone, the glass shattering into a million pieces to release a smog of crimson gas that burned the eyes of the enemy.

Ameria quickly dashed away from the smoke, wiping away the small tears that formed at the corner of her eyes. Then she dug her heels into the ground, screeching to a stop when more Marines spilled into the alleyway. "_Shit!_"

"W—What do we do now?!" Tanker squealed, clinging desperately to her shoulder.

Both of Ameria's hands were engulfed with grey, her fingers wiggling in the aura, and a large skull was produced in the blink of an eye. Then with a battlecry, she hurled the ethereal skull toward the Marines, the ghostly visage laughing as it expanded rapidly and hit dozens of soldiers. The men and women fell to the ground, victim to the powerful hex that brought tears to their eyes and make them scream in agony. The Marines that witnessed the attack stepped back, anxious beads of sweat dripping down their faces. But, more Marines replaced those that had fallen or wavered. Her hands still glowing grey, the bone mage animated a flurry of skeletal creations to aid her in battle. Dozens of lively human skeletons leapt through the air, pouncing on startled Marines. Then the bone mage dashed through the fray, exiting the chaos only to be blocked by even more enemies around the corner. They were like cockroaches, and she couldn't take it anymore.

Ameria flipped back her jacket, revealing little Shnell that held the large skull in his tiny skeletal hands. She slapped her palm on the smooth collagen and shouted: "_Release!_"

An inky black mass erupted from the skull. Tendrils of pure darkness beat against the stone walls and whipped away any man in their path. Bas stalked out of the black void and surveyed the scene.

The spirit looked over the Marines trembling in fear, and his lip curled in disgust. "Weak," he scoffed. "Unworthy of my collection."

"Good," Ameria replied. "Because I'd prefer if you didn't kill anyone at this moment. I don't need an even bigger bounty on my head."

Bas looked over his shoulder and smirked coyly. "Our interest align this time, but only this time."

Ameria rolled her eyes. "Just distract them for me," she ordered. "I need to contact Law right away. He has to know about the MRD."

Bas's brow arched in curiosity. "You didn't tell him about them?"

Ameria frowned and shifted anxiously on her feet. "It—It was something that didn't come up, so I didn't—wait, no, forget about that!" The bone mage scowled at the spirit. "Just do what I tell you so I can get somewhere safe!"

The smile returned to Bas's lips. "As you wish," and a large dark cloud of thick mist enveloped the narrow alley.

* * *

The RC: the Collection of Wizards by Professor Blinkhorn Watson.

The upgrades for Flevance were completed, which finally gave Law a moment of peace to examine his new piece of literature. Though he had the time, he oddly found himself debating whether or not to read the textbook that laid idly on his desk. He wanted to understand the bone mage's magic so he could help train her more efficiently, but the fact that the book was sectioned off as _fiction_ made him waver. But, he needed a starting point. If it meant reading a poorly translated description of magic, then so be it. Maybe Ameria could clarify any questions he had. The textbook would be a good beginning reference instead of overwhelming her with explaining everything about magic.

As Law stroked the very tiny kitten perched on his knee, he finally flipped open the book and began reading its contents.

Like Miss Alicia had mentioned, it was a book filled with nothing but conspiracy theories and rumors. It was still an interesting text, to say the least. A piece of documentary that was categorized as fiction in libraries and bookstores across the world. Though, the book was written almost like a memoir about the experiments, interviews and experiences that the professor had rather than a documentary filled with facts and history.

_The fog_ was the first key point the professor wrote in detail about, for the stories of the phenomena are what drew his attention to the West Blue. An interminable fog covered an untouched island and Professor Blinkhorn had surveyed the eerie mist day and night from a little fisherman's boat for over a year. He documented that ships had entered and left the fog with ease, but when he and his crew tried to, they were turned around and exited the mist the same way they came in.

Curious about the mysterious ships with white sails and the red letters of _RC_ stitched into the heavy material, the professor then began the next phase of his research: the people.

The professor recorded the legends, rumors and tales from neighboring islands. All the locals he interviewed proclaimed that the mysterious people were the Mages of RC. There was a story about how the royal nobles of the West Blue tried to enslave the mages for their personal use, reasons ranging from soldiers to entertainers, but the attempt backfired drastically. The damages were so devastating that the World Government and Marines had intervened to keep the peace. The outcome was a very isolated country that only interacted with the world for trade.

After that, there were many firsthand accounts written by Professor Blinkhorn about how he came in contact with the merchants of the island.

_They were secretive, he wrote. They did not like it when I came into contact with them, especially when I wished to ask questions about their culture and origins._

_The well-armed soldiers that accompanied the merchants were eager to strike me down—and it should be noted that I shall further elaborate on these soldiers that can control the very elements in a later chapter. However, they obeyed the words of a man that wore a golden mask. The soldiers would always steadied their blades when this masked man ordered them to._

_I came across these men many a times once I started to actively search for the people of the RC. The men, and sometimes women, wore similar black clothing, such as tunics, trousers and boots, but they wore different colored cloaks. I came in contact with men and women wearing the colors of crimson, rust and even grey. The cloaks were made of a thick material that could easily hide the figures of their body and they also had cowls to further hide any features that the mask could not._

_The masks must be a symbol of authority, since they did all the speaking. The masked men and women seemed to sense that I meant no harm with my questions, yet they refused to answer._

_Still, they showed no signs of stopping my research despite that, maybe because they were confident that I wouldn't find anything that would disrupt their way of life._

_Disrupting their lives was never my goal, only the desire to document unknown knowledge, but it seemed to upset others. The Marines were harsh when they discovered my research on the RC—they were more upset than the citizens of the island itself. I believe this validates the story of the violence between the mages and nobles because I even had officials from the World Government confront me on my research. They threatened me to stop, for the island wished to uphold their privacy._

_Yet, it did not make sense. If the people of RC wanted me to stop they would have stopped me. This only makes me want to discover more. I want to know why—_

_—purupurupuru._

The sound of the den-den mushi went off and he glanced at it. Ca-jack, he picked up the receiver. "Yes?"

The once sleepy snail's blank expression turned into something filled with anxiety. "_C—Captain?_"

"Ameria?" Law didn't like the tone of her voice. "What's wrong?"

"_M—Marines attacked me._"

"What?!" Law stood up from his seat. Though, he was quick to grab the sleepy kitten he nearly forgotten and he held the startled feline carefully in his hand.

"_I'm alright. Bas is causing a distraction for me so I was able to slip away. I'm in this little shop for cover. I think they don't know where I am, but I'm sure they will find me soon…_"

"This isn't good, Miss Bones." Law snapped and he held the kitten closer to his chest.

"_I—I know that! I—I'm sorry!_"

Law sighed, frustrated. "No. No, no. It's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. Just don't move—"

"**Captain!**"

Law paused mid-sentence, his eyes flickering up to see the sickbay door swing open quickly and Shachi stormed in.

There was a grimace on the ginger's lips as he stood before his captain. "There's a problem." Shachi stated bluntly.

Law's brow twitched. "What now?"

"It's _him._"

"Who?" Law snapped.

"The _lovely_ Rear Admiral," Shachi answered. "We saw his ship docked at Fort Allison. Should we hightail it outta here?" And he jerked a thumb over his shoulder when he asked the question.

The surgeon went pale. "Fuck." He hissed and spoke into the receiver again. "Ameria," he tried to keep his voice calm, but it was proving difficult. "Don't you dare move a single inch. Stay close to people if possible. Understand?"

The concern in her tone was noticeable, but she still said: "_Y—Yes..._" even with a little stutter. "_But there is still something I need to talk about—_"

"That can wait," Law told her. "I need to get to you right now. Tell me where you are. Exactly."

"_I—I don't know…but it's an intersection…um, the c—corner of Kaden Street and Tanner Avenue...I think._"

"Give me ten minutes. Try and act natural," Law told her and when she confirmed his orders, he quickly hung up the den-den mushi. "Get ready to leave, tell the others." He ordered the ginger, handing him the kitten as he walked towards the door.

Shachi blinked when he was given the cat, but he shook it off. "G—Got it!" He nodded and rushed out of the sickbay with the surgeon.

Law had to force himself not to sprint through the streets; it would only cause more attention to himself. He didn't want to cause a scene, especially since he was on Doubloon's Main Street downtown.

_Thank god I gave her that den-den mushi_…he inwardly thought.

He got to the shop in time, but his eyes went wide when he saw the closed sign hanging on the door's window. A vile feeling was bubbling in his stomach, especially when he saw how people were avoiding that section of the street and he didn't think it had to do with his presence.

Law pursed his lips. "This doesn't look good," he murmured.

"_C—Captain!_"

His steely grey eyes flickered open wide and he turned around, watching as his first-mate barreled toward him through the crowd. "Bepo?!"

"I…was still…at the base…with Penguin when Shachi left…to tell you about the ship," Bepo wheezed with his paws on his knees, completely out of breath. "But…but Ameria was kidnapped by him! We saw it all!"

Law closed his eyes and bit his lip. "That _bastard…_"

* * *

The Rear Admiral leaned against the coarse wall of the alleyway, hidden by a veil of shadows as he surveyed the bustling port. His sharp steely gaze was trained on the yellow submarine that had a small group of pirates enjoying a smoke break on deck, and then he spotted the familiar little speck of green: the wool laplander.

The Marines that waited behind him were eager to charge, but he held up a hand to keep them at bay. Then he looked back to the pirates, watching as the mage spoke with her crewmates briefly before leaving the safety of the submarine all by herself.

He waved a hand over his shoulder and ordered: "Continue to stick to the shadows of the alleys. Don't lose sight of her."

The soldiers nodded to their superior and quickly went to fulfill the command, dispersing from the cramped alleyway.

He left the comfort of the shadows, his normal uniform replaced with a civilian's attire so he could easily blend in with the crowds. He removed the large pair of sunglasses that were hanging from the front collar of his jet-black overcoat and placed them over his steely grey eyes. Then adjusting the bill of his white navy-blue spotted cap, he began to trail behind the mage before she got out of sight.

His target: Manolia Ameria.

She was better known as Bones, but she had become a target of the MRD ever since they discovered her in Alabasta and saw that she had joined the infamous Straw Hats. Though, she had become a top priority target when they found out that she was the daughter of the violent Wolverine. No bounty hunter worth their salt would go after the Wolverine's kin, so the task of recovering her was left to him. Bones was a slippery one, especially due to the Straw Hats' unpredictable nature, but with the Heart Pirates the situation had changed.

Despite the fact that a decade had passed, the Rear Admiral never stopping watching the Surgeon of Death since that fateful day. In his heart, he felt he still knew Law like the back of his hand. Therefore snatching Bones up would be no issue, but he also knew Law wouldn't remove his fangs without a fight.

While concerning that there would be an unavoidable encounter, the Rear Admiral had too much on the line regarding his position to lose such an opportunity.

He shook the thought from his mind and pushed further through the crowds, closing the distance between himself and Bones. Then suddenly she reared off into the alleyways. He slowed down his pace, his brows furrowing, but then now inwardly cursed himself for allowing his concentration to break just enough for her to catch on.

The Rear Admiral was more careful as he continued his pursuit. Slower this time. He weaved through the narrow alleys, narrowly keeping an eye on her tracks.

Then he heard the cries of pure agony echo off the walls, men howling in pain. His men. The Rear Admiral broke out into a sprint, his stealth dissolved, but then he stopped dead in his tracks.

A toxic looking red mist blocked his path. It was thin, but thick with heat that made his steely grey eyes water behind his sunglasses. As he crept through the alley, the mist made his exposed skin prickle, though it was nothing compared to his men that received the brunt of the attack. Their skin was covered in large green blotches and tiny purple toadstools sprouted from the damaged skin.

He approached the scene slowly, a long grimace on his lips. They had easily fallen victim to one of the mage's gas bombs. "I told them to be careful of that," he sighed in disappointment.

The sound of battle continued around the corner, and he saw a number of his men engaged in combat with an army of undead animations. Cartilage snapped, breaking into pieces when the soldiers bashed the crazy skeletons with the butts of their rifles. Then a rush of black mist engulfed the area, and a man clad in black strolled nonchalantly through the ominous fog. There was a broad grin on his lips as the smoke consumed him, and two crimson eyes peered through the darkness. A bloodcurdling roar made the Marines quiver in fear as a monstrous crow formed from the black cloud.

The Rear Admiral's eyes opened never thought he would see one in person outside of the horror stories other officers told him about the rare magical specimens called spirits. The creatures rarely ever left their native islands and they were always in the possession of a mage. He had a slight his suspicions that Bones picked one up on the island of Evergreen, based on the information gathered from the village leader, but now that the theory became a fact, he knew she was far more dangerous than ever before. Luckily, he had a good idea how to handle the issue thanks to those reports: remove the root of the problem.

The Rear Admiral turned around, running back to Main Street and he noticed that the chaos already started to spread. The menacing black clouds billowed high into the sky, the crowds stopping to stare at the strange sight. Civilians heard the commotion; the sounds of battles, the cries of pain. Rumors became wildfire, and panic accompanied facts when curiosity overcame the people.

His brows furrowed into a worried knot, then he quickly he pulled a den-den mushi from his pocket.

_Purupurupuru_—the sleepy blue and white snail purred—_ca-jack_. "_Yes, Sir?_"

"We lost Unit 2," he answered. "And Unit 4 and 6 are engaged in combat in the fifth alley of Juliet Lane and Dylan Street. Send reinforcements and barricade those streets to the civilians. We can't let them run into the middle of the battle."

"_Yes, Sir. Anything else, Sir?_"

"Find her. Make sure that Bones cannot, I repeat, cannot by any means reach the Heart Pirates. We'll lose our chance the moment she steps foot on the submarine."

"_Understood, Sir. We will stay on the line waiting further orders, Sir._"

"Good. Now…where did she go? So much mayhem, all for the sake of one little _bella_."

Doubloon's Main Street was swarmed with patrols of Marines, which helped him snuff her out from the crowds. Bones sneakily darted into a tiny secondhand shop on a street corner, barely avoiding a group of wary soldiers that marched down the main road with rifles in hand.

A sly smirk tugged on the corner of his lips as he held the den-den mushi up once more, whispering: "The corner of Kaden Street and Tanner Avenue," and within minutes, two dozen men waited for his signal in the shadowed alley cross from the corner store.

Then the Rear Admiral slowly approached the little store, the bell above the door chiming as he entered. The interior of the secondhand shop was narrow. The aisle shelves were cluttered with prepackaged junk food and stuffed to be brink with all types of cans, mainly beans. The placed reeked of nicotine, the wall behind the cashier's counter was covered with hundreds of different brands of cigarettes. The building was virtually empty; not a soul registered his presence save for the mage and cashier. Bones was tucked away in the back corner of the store, hiding in the shadows, and the cashier was behind the front counter. The short man glanced at him briefly, but then returned to his magazine; it was good that he changed into civilian clothes. The Rear Admiral slowly walked further into the store, waiting for all eyes to be off him before he made his next move. He listened in closely, hearing her whisper a tiny chant under her breath. Act natural, act natural, she muttered that over and over again as she shuffled through the aisles.

Then Bones retreated from the back corner, moving toward the front counter. She appeared calm as she gently whispered to the clerk, showing him a piece of wrinkled paper. The middle-aged man squinted his eyes to read what was scribbled on the page and then nodded, turning around to browse through his assorted arrangement of cigarettes boxes.

When they were both distracted, the Rear Admiral swiftly advanced, and he pinched the pressure point between her shoulder and neck.

She gasped, but instantly went limp and he caught her in his arms before she could hit the ground.

The clerk heard the noise and whipped around, his eyes opening wide at the sight. "O—_Oi!_" he shouted, glaring at the Rear Admiral. "What do you—?"

The Rear Admiral held up his hand and then waved two fingers forward and the Marines on standby stormed into the building instantly with their rifles at the ready.

The clerk's cheeks went pale and he raised his hands high over his head, gulping.

The Rear Admiral smirked at the clerk and placed a single finger to his lips before adjusting his hold on Bones, holding her more securely in his grasp, and then he turned on his heel to leave with his target and entourage in tow.

When he stepped out of the store, he immediately noticed that the black mass had vanished from the sky. The sounds of battle were replaced by the whispers of concern as more soldiers filtered into the alleyways while local authorities blocked the civilians from investigating the area. The crowd watched in bewilderment as the Rear Admiral strolled back to Fort Allison with Bones in his arms and an escort of a dozen Marines surrounding them like a protective shield, the people parting like the sea to make the journey through the city a swift one.

When the Rear Admiral returned to the warship, Abigail insulted him-as usual-about his tardiness and then began barking orders to the men and women on board, making them scramble to prepare the ship for departure. All the while, the Rear Admiral took Bones down to his sickbay, leaving her in the care of his nurses because he needed to make a few calls in his office. He didn't necessarily want to speak with either man, but the sooner he did, the better. Begrudgingly, he made the call to the Vice Admiral leading the MRD, and then the other to Officer Cobra of the World Government. Despite his feelings, both of his superiors were thrilled to hear that Manolia Ameria had been captured, and they gave him a fresh set of new orders.

Then he returned to the sickbay deep in the belly of his warship, seeing that the nurses had prepared his supplies, arranged his tools and strapped the mage to the surgical table in the middle of the large room. Beside the table was Abigail, his assistant tapping her foot impatiently.

The Rear Admiral stalked into the room, seizing a pair of latex gloves that were laid out on a metal trolley next to the surgical table. He pulled them over his hands, the rubber snapping against his wrists. His dark shadows loomed over Bones, his steely grey eyes observing her emotionless features, the mage in a deep sleep. Then curiously, he reached out and gently rubbed a strand of her ebony hair between his thumb and forefinger. The latex blocked the sensation of touch, but he could feel the silkiness just by looking at the shiny lock.

"Are you just going to continue to gawk or get to work?"

The Rear Admiral's steely gaze shifted to his assistant, the aggravated ginger standing on the other side of the surgical table.

Abigail folded her arms over her chest and rapped her fingers against her bicep. "We're on a schedule, you know?"

The Rear Admiral turned away from his assistant, looking toward one of the nurses that stood off to the side. "Please get the lights."

A young brunette yelped and clutched the clipboard in her hands to her chest, blushing furiously when the Rear Admiral spoke to her instead of one of the other four nurses. Then quick on her heels, she scurried to do what was asked. The sickbay flickered into a subtle darkness, the only source of light was a spotlight above the surgical table in the middle of the room. Bones was in the limelight, the mage restrained to the surgical table with thick leather straps.

"**Bring me to your leader!**"

The furious howl and bang of metal against the wall made the Rear Admiral snap his attention to the open doorway.

A flushed private stormed into the sickbay, hastily pushing a metal trolley that had a large birdcage upon it. The Marine saluted his confused superior, saying: "Sir! I couldn't take it anymore! Sir!"

"**Vermin!**"

The Rear Admiral stared down at the pair of tiny skeletons causing the commotion, or rather skeleton. The smaller skeleton of the pair was merely huddled in the corner of the locked birdcage, cradling a skull in its little arms.

"_Sir!_" The private shouted again. "Sorry,_ Sir!_" and then he pivoted on his heel and marched out of the sickbay.

The noisy skeleton grabbed the thin bars of the birdcage with all four hands, shaking it violently. "**Filthy Marine vermin!**" He shrieked, rage burning in the crimson aura glowing within his eye sockets. "**Release us from this prison! I command thee!**"

The Rear Admiral huffed and looked away. "Miss Abigail," he spoke to his assistant. "Would you please handle them? I still need to finish the preparations."

The ginger glowered at him and then she directed the heated scowl toward the noisy skeleton. The ginger snatched up a nearby towel and then threw it over the cage.

The Rear Admiral glared at his assistant, annoyed.

"This is where you say: _if you want something done right, you need to do it yourself_," the ginger bluntly stated.

The Rear Admiral rolled his steely eyes in response.

The cage continued to shake violently, making the towel slip off to reveal the skeletons once more. "Ya'll better listen to me!" The noisy skeleton howled. "Or else _he'll_—" and he jabbed one of his bony fingers to the skull nestled in the arms of the smaller skeleton. "—come out and steal all of ya'll hearts!"

With a blank expression on the ginger's features, she waited for the skull to do something, yet it did nothing in silence.

"_V—Vermin!"_

"That isn't how it works," The Rear Admiral sighed. "A spirit can't be summoned from the vessel unless its master commands it to. …And said spirit will always be unsummoned if its master is rendered unconscious," and he turned to the motionless mage. He placed his hand on her bicep, pulling at the skin with his thumb and forefinger, then he positioned the tip of the syringe to the tense surface. "We're perfectly safe," and then he injected a sedative.

"H—_Hey!_" The noisy skeleton roared, rattling the cage even more as he grew more irritated. "Y—You have no idea what you're doing!"

"On the contrary, I know exactly what I am doing." The Rear Admiral corrected smoothly. "I am a Marine of the MRD, which means I am allowed to handle mages that can potentially become a threat. She is a pirate."

"Y—_You're stupid!_"

"Miss Abigail," the Rear Admiral sighed, turning to his assistant once more. "Please escort the familiars to the waiting room."

Abigail scoffed and roughly pushed the trolley out of the sickbay, the noisy familiar shrieking until the door slammed shut. Then, he was left in peace to do his work.

The Rear Admiral placed the pad of his fingertip between his teeth and tore the latex glove from his hand As he flexed his five digits, he knew it was time to begin the true procedure. He clenched his hand into a tight fist, his fingernails digging into the skin of his palm. Then he held out his free hand to the side. "Test tube, please," he calmly spoke the order to the nurses behind him.

He heard the young woman behind him scurrying to fulfill his demand, stumbling over each other until one of them shakily handed him the glass vial. He held the vial underneath his clamped fist, a dense violet liquid dripping from the wrinkles of his tense pinkie. Once the test tube was filled, he used it to prepare a new syringe. The dark liquid within the clear plastic glowed eerily, and then he turned back to the mage, injecting her arm again with the clean needle.

"_There,_" the Rear Admiral purred in satisfaction as he removed the latex glove from his other hand. "That'll remove_ all_ altercations when she is conscious."

Then the clicks of steady heels behind him made him look over his shoulder and he saw that his assistant had returned, looking as annoyed as ever. "_Hmph_. Hope you can get that annoying familiar to shut up, too."

"If only I could I would, Miss Abigail…" the Rear Admiral sighed.

"Well," Abigail scoffed. "It'll be Officer Cobra's problem soon."

"…Yes." The Rear Admiral frowned. "I'll uphold the terms and conditions of the treaty, but soon it'll be his problem."

Abigail eyed him warily. "You don't sound confident."

The frown on his lips grew. "It's what I have to do…" he murmured, turning back to look at the cataleptic mage. "You," he addressed her silent form. "My _bella donna,_" and he curled a lock of her ebony hair around his slender finger. "Are my ticket out of this hellhole."

As he said those words, the galleon shook violently and the sickbay was doused in a crimson light. Loud sirens wailed through the halls of the ship, harmonizing with bewildered cries that were terrified of fire.

"What the hell was _that!?_" Abigail roared.

The Rear Admiral looked up at the ceiling, watching a mist of dust flutter to the floor. Then from the corner of his eye, he saw his nurses leave in a panic, the women quickly gathering first-aid kits as they rushed out the door. "It could only be one thing, Miss Abigail." He declared boldly. "Did you actually think we would get off scotch-free?"

"I wish," Abigail scoffed.

The Rear Admiral chuckled. "If only it could be so easy."

"Just go do your job," Abigail rolled her eyes.

The Rear Admiral smirked, cracking his knuckles as he walked toward the open doorway. "Now that, Miss Abigail, is something I can easily do."

* * *

His heels pounded against the cobblestone street, beating in rhythm with his heart pushing against his ribcage. The port suddenly grew silent, almost void of all life save for the lapping waves crashing into the bay. Silence was almost always an ominous sign, especially as the surgeon headed straight toward Fort Allison's Harbor. The local ships that the base used were small compared to the three massive warships docked at the port. Law instantly recognized the figurehead nailed to the bow of the biggest warship that was docked there. It was an elegant blindfolded woman. The statue's long flowing dress was carved into the stone, perpetually in a state of motion. Her right hand was extended outward, holding a balance scale for the world to see, and in her left she held a long broadsword that had the inscription _blind justice_ imprinted on the marble.

It was his symbol.

After years, this would be their first encounter. Coming face to face with him wasn't something the surgeon wanted. He had been running for eleven years, but it had to be done. Law had a feeling in his gut that the book on mages and the abduction were related. Whenever the World Government or Marines were involved, trouble soon followed.

Law skid to a halt and then stared up at the judgmental figurehead, a grimace on his lips. Despite his feelings, he went along with his plan. He needed to create an opening, so he showed no mercy.

"_Room._"

The blue transparent dome swallowed the three warships and the surgeon unsheathed his nodachi. He extended his hand, a collection of barrels and crates following the movement of his arm and he pointed his middle and forefingers towards the hull. Crash. A plume of smoke engulfed the side of the hull and the bay rippled with waves when broken lumber and splinters crashed into the surface.

The howl of the startled Marines echoed through the night. The surgeon saw the foot soldiers gather around the gaping hole, the different levels of the warship completely exposed.

Law held his arms out wide. _"C'mon fuckers!_" He taunted boldly, purposefully painting his chest with a red target. Then a broad smirk crept on his lips. "_Don't like the taste of your own medicine?_"

"I hardly doubt this is the same type of medicine, Law."

Law winced at the familiar voice that pierced his eardrums, and his eyebrow began to twitch when he saw the mass of Marines part like the sea to make way for their superior.

The lovely Rear Admiral and there was only one way to greet him.

"_Asshole._"

But with his appearance, Law knew that his plan had worked.

The surgeon's deduction was indeed correct, for Shachi, Penguin and Bepo had all sneaked onto the warship while the Marines were focused on their captain's distraction.

"You guys _sure_ Captain will be okay?" Bepo nervously asked as he sprinted down the vacant hallway deep within enemy territory.

"_Hell yeah!_" Shachi hollered over his shoulder. "He's a master of distraction after all!"

"You should know this by now, Bepo." Penguin grinned.

"I—I know," the bear glanced downward, slowing his pace as he mumbled: "But I can't help but worry still…"

"Don't lag behind, you stupid bear!"

"S—_Sorry!_" Bepo became flushed and quickened his pace to catch up to the two head mechanics.

The trio dashed through the warship, kicking open doors to inspect every room they came across. The pirates weren't worried about stealth since they knew the Marines were preoccupied with their captain outside and the damages to the warship. The sounds of war was more than enough to prove that.

"Hey!" Shachi then skidded to a halt. "Did you hear that?"

The trio listened carefully, tuning out the sounds of distant explosions and they heard a constant banging sound, like a metal pipe was hitting a sheet of iron. Then there was a loud and prolonged shriek that ricocheted off the walls.

"I_—It's Tanker!_"

They rushed towards the sound of screaming, the polar bear kicking open a set of double doors that led into the warship's sickbay. The stench of antiseptic was overwhelming, the polar bear's eyes tearing up because of his heightened senses.

"_You're late!_"

The trio looked to the center of the room and saw a surgical table that Ameria laid on top of, restrained with thick leather straps. Then beside the table was a trolley that had her familiars trapped within a locked birdcage. Quickly, the trio ran into the room to help. Shachi hastily removed the restraints that pinned the bone mage and then Penguin carefully peeled Ameria away from the table. Bepo tried to unlock the birdcage, but the noisy familiar didn't make it easy.

Tanker held the bars of his prison, shaking it wildly so the polar bear became flustered when he couldn't even examine the lock. Then the familiar screamed: "She's been drugged!_ Drugged!_"

Penguin froze as he carefully put the bone mage on his back. "Does that mean…?" and he slowly glanced towards the ginger.

A bead of sweat trickled down the Shachi's cheek when he heard the news and he hissed: "_Shit_, what're we gonna tell Captain?"

Shachi did have a fine question to ask, but that would be a question to answer later. Law had other things to worry about at the moment, for he was caught in a grueling fight. The lowly Marines around him yelped in fear and scurried away like headless chickens to avoid the chaos. Crates and barrels crashed into the port like meteors because the Supernova and Rear Admiral were locked in heated combat.

_Clink._

With grace, the two powerhouses leapt back and forth so their blades continued to clash over and over again.

_Clink-clink-clink._

_Sssssssssh!_

Sparks flew as the razor sharp edges ground together with immense strength.

The ornate dagger held by the Rear Admiral was covered in a layer of hardened black Haki armor that crept up his hand and arm.

Jumping away, Law separated his nodachi from the Rear Admiral's blade and the balls of his feet skid against the cobblestone. Law growled, grinding his teeth together until his jaw went numb.

There was a smug smirk on the Rear Admiral's lips as he stood calmly on the other side of the port. He placed one hand on his hip, hooking his thumb into the thick leather belt that was occupied by nine other decorative blades that matched the one in his grasp. "What, Law?" The Rear Admiral mused, twirling the elegant shiv between his fingers. "Is that really any way to greet me after all these years? Show a little respect."

Law _hated_ looking at him, He hated how it felt like he was looking at his doppelgänger.

It had always been that way. Even though they were born two years apart, Law always felt like he was looking into a mirror when they were face to face. Like how they rolled up their sleeves in the same fashion to expose their tan skin, just as their father always did. The same messy ebony hair that made them look like they just rolled out of bed. The same steely grey eyes that could gleam with intense amusement or be as cold as ice. However, the reflection he saw as a child was cracked. The different paths they took in life showed how different they grew up. The tattoos that covered his body, showcasing the pride he had as a pirate, and the dark black bags beneath his eyes that showed the sleepless nights he suffered over the years.

Law glanced away, his eyes closed and his sweat-drenched brow twitched violently. Then he inhaled and exhaled sharply before reopening his eyes. "_Justice!_ If there is anyone you should have captured, it should be me! Finish what you started all those years ago! Just let her go!"

"This has nothing to do with you anymore," Justice closed his eyes with a sigh and he ruffled his tufts of messy ebony locks. "I can't let her go."

"_You—_" Law's brows furrowed in rage. "Asshole! She's done nothing to warrant her capture! Just give her back!"

Confused, Justice scratched the sideburn along his jaw. "She's a_ pirate…_"

"Compared to me, dimwit!" Law snapped. "What's your game, huh? What do the Marines want with a mage!?"

A dark frown carved its way onto Justice's lips. "Classified," was his blunt response.

"Tell me!" Law bellowed.

Justice cocked his head to the side, closing his eyes. "I need her," he answered with a sigh. Then the Rear Admiral glared at the surgeon. "I need her more than you."

Law's eyes went wide, the rage inside him exploding. His grip tightened around the hilt of his nodachi, and he charged Justice once more.

_Clink-clink-clink._

The steel of their blades clashed, sparks crackling wildly. The blackness of the Rear Admiral's Haki consumed the dagger and the arm that held it, and Justice was able to parry every advance from the surgeon with ease.

_Clink-clink-clink-clink-clink._

"You need her more than me?" Law snarled. "_Bullshit!_"

"You don't understand, Law." Justice calmly replied, despite the pressure of the surgeon's blade against his own.

"You're right, I don't!" Law pushed against the dagger, the steel grinding together. "And I don't give a damn!" The surgeon countered, putting all his strength into the weight of his blade. "_She's a member of my crew! I will protect her!_"

"**Captain!**"

When Law heard the voice of his first-mate he broke free from his rage induced trance and then leapt away from the collision of blades. He took a second to breathe. There was no point getting worked up anymore; his job was done.

"_Room,_" he growled. "_Shambles,_" and then he disappeared from sight.

Justice stared at the plume of dust that replaced the surgeon's figure. "What does she mean to you, Law…?" he mumbled with a grim frown. Then he smoothly sheathed his daggers, the black cloak of Haki vanishing from his skin. "Is it…_that_, I wonder?"

* * *

Alicia hooked her hands behind her back, the fingertips of her left hand rapping against the wrist of her right. Leaning forward, the author's aqua eyes scanned the motionless bone mage lying on one of the cots in the submarine's sickbay. She hummed in thought and then she tenderly touched the small circular puncture wound on the bone mage's arm. "The Marines are known for applying powerful tranquilizers on problematic enemies, especially those that cannot be contained with Seastone Chains. Madame Bones shall, most likely, be out cold for a few more hours depending on the dosage the Rear Admiral used."

For the far corner of the room, Law stood with his arms crossed over his chest and a dark shadow covered the angry scowl on his face. The surgeon had been deadly silent since they returned back to Flevance and left Doubloon as quickly as possible. The crew knew his past with the Rear Admiral, so the pirates did not find this behavior abnormal and left him be. Alicia the Tulip, however, didn't know the connection and found his rage to be rather strange.

A small frown appeared on the author's ruby lips. "She shall be fine with rest, Doctor Trafalgar."

The surgeon's demeanor never changed; if anything, it became darker.

"M—Miss Alicia," Brodie intervened, a bead of sweat on his brow as he held up his hands defensively. "I—It's not that. You see—"

"She was _poisoned._" The venom dripped from the words the surgeon spoke. "No amount of rest will help her, Miss Alicia."

"_Poisoned?_" Alicia blinked, baffled. "I know the Marines can be ruthless toward their foes, but I truly believe that they would never—"

"Have you ever heard of _Poison Control?_" Law cut off the author, a grim expression on his features.

"From the Marines? In passing, yes." Alicia nodded slowly. "He ate the Aya-Aya Devil Fruit, which gave him a rather intriguing power from what I heard. His pores can produce a bodily serum—a potent poison—and when his enemies are infected, it allows him to manipulate them to his will, just like a marionette—wait," she paused, her eyes growing wide. "Are you implying that the Marine who kidnapped Madame Bones was _Poison Control?_"

"Yes," Law was short.

"Are you sure, Doctor Trafalgar?" Alicia glared worriedly at the surgeon. "The rumors about what happens when he infects someone via the bloodstream—"

"Are_ nasty_, I know." Law snapped, glaring sourly back at the author. "There is no doubt in my mind that it's Poison Control because…" then the surgeon quickly looked away, closing his eyes with an exasperated look. "He's my older brother."

Alicia's jaw dropped. The author was rendered speechless for one of the first times since she boarded the submarine. On a good day, the surgeon would have considered this a petty win because of how the author could crawl under his skin and pick at his bones, but the situation was too grave for such childish jokes.

"I'm certain he used his powers on her. He knows exactly where she is. He could be at our doorstep tomorrow night, or maybe he wants to see us squirm." Then Law glanced at the bone mage, frowning grimly. "I don't know what he has planned, but the moment he gets back into range, he could make her turn on us."

"So, we have to be extra careful from now on," Brodie replied solemnly. "I will take a blood sample and monitor it. I'll also inform the rest of the guys to be on guard. I can also ask Nigel to keep a close eye on her. If we knock her out when it happens, then Justice can't make her his puppet."

Alicia remained silent. There was a stone-cold look in her eyes as she scowled at the pair. Then with a bitter scoff, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. She appeared upset with how the two treated the situation, but she also couldn't deny the facts. That caused a guilty look to overcome Brodie's features as he shuffled out of the room to warn the rest of the crew. Then it was only Law and his unconscious bone mage left in the sickbay, and the surgeon let out a heavy sigh as he plopped down in the seat at his desk.

"I'm that much of a liability now, aren't I?"

Law's head snapped up, watching in horror as the bone mage slowly rose from the bed. "_Ameria?_" He stared at her, his eyes wide. Then he frowned, his brows furrowing in concern. "How… How much did you hear?"

"Enough," Ameria whispered as she got off the cot and hobbled over to the desk, sitting down on the stool beside him. She was quiet for a moment, her head hanging low as she anxiously fiddled with the hem of her jacket. "I really am cursed. I have rotten luck, and now I'm infected with puppet poison. Why…Why am I even here?"

"Because you have a mission to complete," Law replied.

Ameria grimaced. "At this point, I don't even think I'm strong enough to complete it," then she looked down at her hands, staring at her open palms. "I felt so strong before when I was with Luffy, Robin, and everyone else, but now…"

"There is a reason that side of the Grand Line is called Paradise, Ameria." Law countered. "Everyone, everything, every place will be stronger in the New World."

Ameria eyed him skeptically, unconvinced that his reasoning supported her issues.

"If you feel weaker, then train harder," Law sighed. "You can always improve your strength and skills. You just need to take it seriously. I hope this is a wakeup call."

"I thought I was getting better, but I got cocky. I really thought I could handle that fight. This isn't the first time I fought a bunch of Marines before…"

"That wasn't _really_ your fault, you know?" Law still tried to cheer her up, wrapping an arm around her and he squeezed her shoulder with comfort. "I mean, I couldn't even beat Justice—and that's saying something. You were also right. I shouldn't have let you go on your own, especially after being stalked for an entire day by the Marines. I should have gone with you, but even if I knew he was there, I never thought he'd go after you…"

"It's because he's in the MRD, the Mage '_Recruiting_' Division," Ameria explained, air-quoting the stressed word bitterly. "It was the thing I tried to warn you about, but at that point, I guess it was too late and didn't matter. It's not like you knew your brother was even in the division."

"Recruiting?" Law repeated slowly. Then he scoffed and rolled his eyes. "More like_ kidnapping_."

"Hence the sarcasm," Ameria smirked wryly. "The '_R_' used to stand for _Relay_, but ever since the new Vice Admiral took charge of the division, it's been really…_messy_." Then she frowned, rubbing her arm sheepishly as she glanced away. "Sorry, I probably made things messier for you, too. The last person you probably want chasing us is your brother. It sounds like, well…you two probably don't get along anymore."

Law pursed his lips in thought. "…I've been running from him for years now. I'm used to it, but I need to face him properly one day."

"But don't you hate him?"

"As a kid, yeah, I did. I hated him so much. I was scared of him, and I never wanted to forgive him," Law admitted. "But I've seen more of the world now as I've grown older. Not everything looks as simple as it did when I was a kid. It's just…those residual feelings as a child that cause those knee-jerking-habits to run. This was the first time I've faced him in over ten years." Then he looked over at her, smirking coyly. "Maybe with you I can finally learn the truth, or confirm the facts, of my past. Thanks, Ameria."

Ameria stared at him in complete amazement. Her blue eyes were wide and her mouth was gaping open. Then suddenly a pained expression overwhelmed the shock, and she frowned, her brows furrowing in deep thought. She bit her lip and then limply rested her head against his chest, which made Law blink and hold up his hands, his turn to stare at her in amazement.

"Do you mind?" She mumbled softly. "I just…need to think."

"I don't mind at all," Law smiled lightly, his arm once again snaking around her shoulders to pull her close. "Thinking alone is dangerous, after all."

"Thank you," was her very quiet response as she closed her eyes and thought.

* * *

Achy moans echoed through the misty morning air. Marines wrapped in bandages were laid out in long rows across the large deck. The nurses scurried back and forth quickly to care for the wounded while Justice oversaw the treatments, thankful that most of his men only had minor burns. However, there were a few that had some broken bones.

The Rear Admiral crouched down beside a young Marine with a badly bruised arm, the poor boy cradling his numb limb to his chest. Justice inspected the young man's injury and saw to the treatment himself. It was a small fracture in the radial shaft, which meant the boy needed a cast. Calling to one of his nurses, Justice was given the necessary tools to cast the injury.

While the Rear Admiral handled the wounded, Abigail oversaw the damages. The Surgeon of Death had caused more damage to the ships than to the Marines themselves. The ginger, angrily, spoke with the small fleet's three captains to assess the damages the warships suffered. It would take three to four days to recover, which gave the Heart Pirates a decent head start. An outcome no one wanted.

_Purupurupuru_.

Abigail pulled a miniature den-den mushi from between her breast, the very tiny snail groggily purring. When she answered the call, she looked instantly irritated. The muffled tone on the other side made her scoff before she hung up quickly and then she walked over to Justice.

"They're coming tonight," Abigail grumbled.

As Justice dusted off his hands, he looked up at his assistant with a confused look in his eyes. "Who?"

"Officer Cobra and his cronies." Abigail replied bluntly. "They will be here in a few minutes. Cobra said he needed to check in with an iron shipment at Fort Allison before they'd come over for a report on the situation." Then the ginger crossed her arms over her chest, scowling bitterly. "The _pricks_."

Justice rolled his eyes, equally as irritated as his assistant. With a heavy sigh, he stood up from his crouch on the floor, and he dusted off his knees. The Rear Admiral gave a few orders to his nurses and the women continued to care for the injured. Then he briefly stopped by his three captains, telling them to begin repairs as soon as possible. When all his men were given a job and they started working, Justice and Abigail went down to the docks. The pair waited in silence for the government officials to arrive.

In just a few minutes, three men clad in slick black suits stalked down the wooden dock.

Officer Cobra led the tiny pack. The tall man walked with a small limp in his step, using an ornate black cane to support his weight. The morning light reflected off the shiny gold ring on his hand as he lifted it to adjust the large black velvet cowboy hat atop his head. Officer Needles was on Cobra's left, the young man walking with a slight hunch as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, and an eerie sneer crept onto his lips as he eyed Abigail, which made the ginger send a deadly glare his way. Then there was Officer Viper to Cobra's right, the lanky man glowering at the Rear Admiral. He looked extremely upset; his narrow face was flushed red with anger.

"You _lost_ her," Officer Viper was the first to speak, growling his sharp words in livid disappointment. "How can you be so _incompetent?_"

"_Incompetent?_" Justice repeated slowly, scowling at Officer Viper. "You are well aware that I was given a fleet with little to no knowledge about mages. My men have no idea what they're doing when they fight one because they can't handle the unpredictable nature like a trained member of the MRD. So, if anyone is _incompetent_, it is _you_ for failing to give me the proper tools and men needed for the task I was given."

Officer Viper's red face turned three times darker as steam whistled from his ears. "Why you little—!"

Justice held his ground, holding his head high. "It's the truth."

Officer Needles cackled wildly, grinning in amusement as he jeered: "You got some big balls, Traffy."

"_Enough,_" Officer Cobra finally spoke, rapping the butt of his cane against the wooden pier. The tall man glanced from side to side, sending his subordinates warning glares with his sharp reptilian eyes. Then he looked back at the Rear Admiral, a blank look on his face. "She may have gotten away, but you _did_ use your powers on her, correct?"

"Of course," Justice nodded. "I wouldn't have forgotten such an important detail."

"Then, there's no need for us to worry." Officer Cobra smiled cheerfully. "Even though your men were not well-equipped like the MRD, they were able to handle the situation. With that in mind, I believe you earned yourself some upgrades. Head to HQ when the repairs on your ships are complete and make sure your men are properly prepared for the next time you have to face her or any mage in the future. There should be no rush since you can track her down easily. You know her location right now, correct?"

"Yes," Justice was short.

"Then I will send word to the Vice Admiral that you are heading to HQ," Officer Cobra added.

Justice frowned and he inwardly flinched when his superior was mentioned. "You…You don't have to do that."

"But I insist," Officer Cobra countered, grinning coyly. "I'm sure he would rather hear the report from you rather than an old geezer like me,_ haha_."

"I can give him a call," Justice tried to wave aside the idea. "It would be easier to do that rather than doing it in person."

"You know the Vice Admiral loves to hear from you in person, correct?" Officer Cobra frowned. "I wouldn't want to deny him that joy."

Justice was silent.

Officer Cobra didn't seem fazed by the silent treatment and merely grinned. "Then we'll be off," he concluded. "We have a meeting to attend to soon. One of your fellow MRD Rear Admirals seems to have picked up on another mage that is well worth our time. In anycase, we shall see you when you finally catch Bones."

Justice watch the three government officials leave, a grim look carved onto his features. His stomach hurt because of the vile feeling of disgust rising up his throat.


End file.
